A Ghost Story
by allegratree
Summary: “I wish I could smile. Then you could look into my eyes and know how very happy you’ve made me.” Why doesn’t anyone read my story? Write a review and tell me why!
1. The End

**Chapter One**

**The End**

_A Note to the Reader: This story is a sequel to the novel, The Phantom of the Opera, by Gaston Leroux, which is in the public domain and details the scandal at the Parisian Public Opera House, surrounding the suspicious death of the Vicomte de Chagny and the subsequent disappearance of his brother and his brother's betroved. The author is unacquainted with anyone else's published writings on these events and respectfully prefers to remain so._

This sequel details the unusual occurrences surrounding the haunting of a large, old house in a small town outside Paris, following shortly after the events in Mr. Leroux's novel. There are some necessary scenes of moderate violence. There are no offensive words, as we do not wish to sink to vulgarity. There are also no discussions, explicit or implied, of any character's intimate, sexual relationships. This story also has a complete lack of any illegitimate offspring. If you are looking for any of those things, you are in the wrong place.

_This story _does_ contain, a mysterious and beautiful opera singer, a sinister, evil villain , a rampageous young orphan girl, and a most unreasonable ghost. The story is complete, but still under editing. Any opinions or suggestions are welcome and appreciated by the author. Following the main body of this piece are several short stories that may or may not be added eventually to the main story. The reader's opinion on these pieces specifically would be most useful. _

_With My Highest Regard,_

_Allegratree_

The Persian man hadn't believed him when he told him about Christine.

"_She doesn't love you, Monster,_" he insisted, "_You carried her off against her will_!" Erik crossed his arms and pouted like a child, "We shall see."

"Return her at once!" the Persian demanded, "You've no right to bring her into your madness! Erik, let her go or I'll-

"What?" Erik hissed cruelly. His dark yellow eyes fixed on him like those of a cobra. The Persian couldn't draw enough breath to continue his threat. Centuries seemed to pass before the monster shifted his gaze.

"Dare you threaten me?" he demanded. His voice went from soft, dangerous whispers to piercing shrieks, "_I answer to no one!"_

"What on earth could you want with a girl like her?" he asked him, changing tactics slightly, "You can't possibly love her!"

The Persian's words haunted Erik. He had known so little of love. All his life he had known only hatred and jealousy. Hatred of those who shut him away from life, who made of him an animal, and who could not forgive him the sins of being born a monster; Jealousy for those who enjoyed all the simplest joys of life, which he would never touch. Yet he had been sure, from the moment he first saw her, that he could win the love of Christine Daae, in spite of the Persian's doubts.

It was weeks later before he would speak to his old friend again. The Persian loaded him with abuse as he stumbled into his parlor.

"Monster! Killer! What have you done with the Viscount and Christine Daae?"Erik had staggered a bit from the attack and collapsed into a chair as he recounted the entire story to the stunned daroga. Weeping and trembling, he recounted the promise Christine had made him as she wore his ring. She had promised him that they would live together in a real home with no trap doors, in the sunlight as a real man ought to, and that she would love him for himself as long as she lived. And just as she tore away the mask of the opera ghost to reveal a living, breathing Erik, she discovered the human soul within a vengeful monster. For the first time in his life, he loved. And he let her leave in the arms of her viscount. He had to. She couldn't live in his world. And now, as he informed the Persian, he was alone, and he was dying of love.

He had meant to return to the dark house on the lake, after he left the Persian's flat. He would have died there, in his own world; his trap doors and mazes of mirrors, but as the carriage rolled through the streets toward the Palais Garnier he couldn't tolerate the notion. As they passed an enormous graveyard he straightened his mask and called for the driver to stop.

He told himself that he would never return to the labyrinth. Why shouldn't he spend eternity in a graveyard like everyone else? He staggered with pain as he made his way through the stones. He found an old, forgotten vault with a chain and lock on the door. Erik almost laughed. He had spent his whole life tripping locks, why should it be any different now? A moment, and the chain was in a defeated heap on the ground and Erik used his last bit of strength heaving open the heavy door just enough for his thin form to slip through. He then collapsed to the cold floor, unable to close the door behind him.

"_What? What have you ever loved, Erik? Scaring the life out of innocent people? What? Music? That can't love you back, can it Erik?_" The Persian was smug for a moment, as if he'd scored a major victory, but Erik was adamant.

"Oh yes! It can. It does. It is my only friend I've ever had." The Persian shook his head. He was hopeless.

But Erik knew better now. Music could never equal love. But either way, it didn't matter. Now he was completely alone and his own trembling voice, echoing from every corner of the dusty crypt, was his only companion as he waited to slowly freeze or starve to death.

Perhaps it was the lonely sound of his voice that brought the little girl, or maybe she too had thought the crypt an excellent place to hide. Either way, Erik awoke to the unexpected sound of a small girl barely squeezing her way through the opening that he had made a few nights earlier. Erik scrambled to hide behind the outstretched wings of an ivy- encased angel. The child was about eight or nine years of age. Her golden curls were bound in a black mourning veil and she was clothed in a shoddy black dress made for a girl at least two years her senior. She gathered up her limbs and huddled in dark corner, gasping for breath through her tears. She had been running, and she was terrified.

Before Erik could decide what course of action to take against this unexpected intrusion, there was the sound of someone else trying to get past the heavy door. Erik crammed further back into his hiding place. He was becoming quite annoyed at the whole thing. The space between the statue and the wall was too small for him and the stone was scraping up his arms. He wished everyone would go about their own business' elsewhere.

The strange man heaved the stone door open without too much trouble. He glared hatefully around the chamber. His eyes seemed to penetrate every crevice in its walls. He stared at the floor in front of him. Erik knew what he must have been staring at. The child's footprints were everywhere in the dust. Erik shuddered and tried to hold his breath. So were his own.

"Come on out, girlie." The man growled, "Just tell me where it is and I promise I won't hurt you." The girl stayed put. Erik didn't blame her. Her enemy was enormous, possibly three times Erik's size. The man began stalking the chamber, knocking over coffins and furniture as he went, trying to shake her out. Erik couldn't see what he was doing from where he was, but he could hear him coming closer. He franticly tried to recall what objects there might be near him, which he might use as a weapon. He was quite sure that if he attempted to fight off this giant unarmed, he would lose bitterly and most likely be killed. It seemed to him that the coffin closest to him had been decorated with some sort of gold-colored cording.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted. The man had found his prey and had her by the throat.

"Where is it!" he screamed at her.

"I don't know!" the unfortunate creature wailed through gasps, "I don't know what you're talking about!" Erik began to creep out from his hiding place. He glanced towards the door. The miserable child and her attacker were between him and the only way out. Maybe he could sneak around while the man was distracted. Suddenly, he saw the glint of a knife.

"Maybe if you see a little blood, it will jog your memory!" the man howled and the child shrieked as he dug the knife into her arm. Erik was filled with a fury he had never known before.

A sound as angry as thunder came from the direction of the door and the man turned suddenly towards it and saw nothing there. He was about to take a step towards where the sound had come from when he heard the sound again, this time from another corner of the chamber, and then again, in his left ear. He spun around, terror-stricken. Now the sound was coming at him from every corner, from outside, and even from within the dusty coffins themselves. The man howled with fear but his voice was cut short. He couldn't breath. Something was choking him and now had him on the floor. Seconds went by. The man was cold and dead on the smooth, stone floor.

The girl was shocked and trembling as she stared at her savior.

"Are you a ghost, or an angel?" she asked the strange figure in the black cloak.

"I used to be both," he said in a voice as soft as velvet, "but now I'm neither." The girl seemed to contemplate this for a while and then made a meek sound as she collapsed on the hard floor. She had lost too much blood, and fainted dead away. The chamber was silent. Then, Erik lifted up the girl's small body, and sealed her would-be-assassin in the grave, before carrying her off into the night.


	2. Always Night

**Chapter Two**

**It Is Always Night**

The little girl woke suddenly from a nightmare and found herself in a cheery little bedroom. She was lying in a soft bed wrapped in many blankets. She wore a grownup lady's white nightdress bedecked with many colorful ribbons and there was a dull ache in her arm where someone had carefully dressed her wound in a clean bandage. She was surprised and frightened to find herself in a place that she'd never seen before and began to run around the room, crying fitfully. She ran to each of the two doors in the room, one of which she opened to discover a bathroom, the other being locked shut. There was no door out of the place and this frightful idea made her cry all the harder.

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps coming from beyond the wall. She attempted to run back to the bed and hide beneath the covers, but the nightdress was so long that it tangled around her thin legs, causing her to fall on her face. She looked up as she struggled to get to her feet and saw a dark figure standing in a third doorway that until that moment had been absent from view. Its arms went quickly around her, untangled the dress, and set her gently on her feet. It then stepped back to study her. The child recognized it as the creature who had saved her the night before. She approached it timidly and it drew further away as if it were afraid of her touch.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to sound brave. The shape didn't answer but came further into the room, where she could see him better. The little girl was relieved to find that he was a man, dressed in a long black cloak that seemed to have a life of it's own with a hood that covered his head in shadow. She judged that he was young man, by his size and step although she couldn't tell for certain as he wore a strange cloth mask, which covered nearly his entire face.

"Thank you for saving me, monsieur. Did you bring me here?" The figure was non-responsive, though the dark holes in the mask were looking her over in a way that assured the child that he would speak to her, when he chose to do so. She took another step toward him and he took another step back.

"Is this your house?" she asked him and the man nodded slowly and then looked to the side as if he were thinking.

"I'm Suzette," the little girl continued, "How shall I call you, monsieur?"

"Erik," the man said in a voice that was cold and gentle at the same time, "My name is Erik."

"Shan't I call you by your family name, monsieur?"

"No, little girl," he informed her in a mocking voice, "I have no family name. I have no name at all. But someone once called me Erik and you may do the same if you wish."

"Alright." She replied sadly. What a terrible thing, not to have a name!

"Are you hungry?" he asked her.

"Yes, Monsieur." The man cocked his head at her. "I thought you were meant to call me 'Erik'."

"Yes, Erik."

"Now get yourself dressed as you've already slept away the morning. I will make you a little lunch." And with that he disappeared, leaving the panel slightly open so that she could come out when she wished to. Having nothing else to wear, she put on the old black dress and made her way to explore the rest of the house. She stepped out from the bedroom and found a little drawing room, full of many interesting things, and decorated with many flowers. Adjoining the drawing room was another space, which was home to both an organ and a pianoforte. Suzette went to the later and climbed up on the seat. She began pressing the cool shiny keys and was delighted by the sound, which seemed to echo through the house. She was enjoying herself that she didn't notice Erik, who had come in rather quickly when he heard the racket.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. Suzette looked at him sheepishly.

"I wanted to see what it sounded like."

"Well stop it," he snapped, "I do not like noisy children." He lifted her from the seat and set her on the floor and she followed him through another panel that had seemed to materialize for his convenience. He led her out to a little table that was set up by an dark lake which seemed to stretch into infinity. It was rather pretty with light reflecting on the dark water. Above them, tiny lights, an endless sky of stars, shone down and echoed on the lake's mirror-like surface.

"I thought you said we were having lunch," Suzette laughed as she sat down at the table, "Looks like it's about time for dinner." Erik didn't laugh. He took out his watch and handed it to her.

"It is just after one in the afternoon. It is always night here, little girl." He sounded so sad and suddenly the millions of lights in the sky weren't so pretty anymore.

"Why do you wear a mask?" she asked him after a moment.

"Because I don't want anyone to see me."

"Not even me?"

"No."

"Take it off, please. I want to see your face."

"No.

"Please?"

"I said no, so leave it alone. You don't want to end up like the last girl who took off my mask."

"What happened to her?"

"How old are you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Nearly ten," she answered.

"Where do you live?" This innocent question brought a most unexpected wave of tears from the little girl. Erik watched this for a moment in horror and then patted the child on the arm.

"Don't cry little girl," he said to her, "I'll take you home right now. Don't be afraid. I like children even though I've never really known a child before. You're a nice little girl. You're a pretty little girl. I'm sorry that I yelled at you. You shouldn't stay here. I'll take you home right now, just tell me where you live."

"I don't have a home now," Suzette wailed, "Some women came one night and took me away. They said that my papa was dead and that I had to live in an orphan home because there was no one who wanted me. So I don't have any place to go except for there and I hate it there because the ladies smacked me for being 'ungrateful' and they only eat bread with no butter. And I want my papa back but God took him to heaven now and I am all alone."

Erik was astounded. He hadn't ever felt sorry for anyone else but he found himself deeply saddened by this little girl's pain.

"There, there, you dear little thing. I will take care of you for now and everything will be just fine. What can I do to make you stop crying? I know lots of tricks that children like." He was silent for a moment and then Suzette had to stop and listen for his voice was coming from the other room!

"_Come in here, little girl. I will show you how to play the pianoforte!_" Next, the voice came from the middle of the lake.

"_Don't cry little girl. Would you like to ride in the boat?_" Then the voice seemed to come from under the table.

"_I know many fun games, little girl!_"

"_Yes, many, many merry games!"_ said her fork.

"_And some magic tricks too!"_ said her knife.

"_Do stop crying, little girl,_" the voice implored from somewhere above here, "_We shall have lots of fun!_" Suzette smiled and dried her tears.

"Will you call me Suzette, please?" she asked Erik and all the voices in his house.

"Very well then, Suzette."

"Will you take off the mask?"

"Absolutely not." She smiled at him and took his hand so he could show her the rest of his house.


	3. In the House on the Lake

As soon as little Suzette's arm was properly healed, she began running wild through the little apartment causing Erik to have alternating fits of panic and amusement. It seemed to him that she was nearly equal in her desire to explore and her inclination to fall flat on her face. He gave her liberty to search through his boxes and shelves and to play with everything she liked. She took great care to be gentle with his collections and not to drop them for even at her young age, she could tell that many of the things were valuable and not for children. Even so she managed to break the leg of a very handsome deer that was carved from a richly colored wood. Erik was somewhat upset but the girl looked so distressed and nervous that he was unable to do anything but assure her that he hadn't liked it so very much anyway.

At this point, Erik suggested that she examine the outside walls and the floors as he said they were full of surprises. Suzette did as she was advised and was delighted to find hidden doors and cupboards throughout the apartment. Erik had to show her how to open most of them, for they were very tricky doors and even after he explained their devices several times, Suzette often couldn't get them to work herself. She crawled inside the spaces and found storage areas and connections to other rooms. Through one doorway she found an enormous library, filled to such an extent with books and papers that there was no available space to sit and read them.

"So many books!" Suzette exclaimed.

"Yes, I like to read about things," Erik explained to her.

"What kind of things?" she asked.

"Lots of things, things that I can't know about here. Sometimes I wish I could go about and see all sorts of things happening. But I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't," he said sadly and Suzette was quite sorry for him.

They reentered the house and Suzette discovered a trap door on the smooth floor near the little table where they took their meals. She found that it came open quite readily and about a foot beneath the little door, water was bubbling and gurgling away.

"What is this for?" she asked him. Erik showed her some hooks on the underside of the door and explained how he could hook something onto the door and the water would keep it cool. Suzette noticed a little switch on a pipe that seemed to run under the floor and asked if she could flip it. Erik nodded and she leaned in carefully and turned on the switch. To their right, several sprays of water shot up mysteriously from the floor and then seemed to disappear back through the floor. Suzette stuck her hands into the fountain and felt about the floor, trying to discover how the illusion worked, only to rise several minutes later, sopping wet and still befuddled.

Through another passageway she found a large workroom, filled with wires, gears, and tools used for carpentry. In the center of the room, was a large table that was covered with masses of gears and coils that were connected and interconnected by cables.

"What are these things, Erik?" Suzette asked.

"They are locks and pulleys for opening and closing doors."

"Hidden doors like these?"

"Some of them."

"But all your doors are already fixed with them."

"Ah! The doors in the house are all fixed with them, but there are other doors that must be tended as well."

"What doors, Erik?" Erik knelt down beside her and lowered his voice as if he were afraid that someone might hear.

"You see, Suzette. I am not the only one who knows of this dark place. There are others."

"Who?" Suzette asked in wonder.

"The Daroga…and the Ratcatcher…and Joseph Bouquet, though he is dead now."

"The Ratcatcher?" squeaked Suzette, wide-eyed.

"Yes, he is the worst. He caught me off guard once and nearly had me." Suzette shivered and Erik continued.

"They have their own quarters, their own doors and passageways. They know I am here and they are constantly searching for a way to trap me when I venture out. If they should ever discover my house I am done for. That is why it is absolutely necessary that the doors open and shut only for myself, so that I may disappear behind them and they may not follow me. Sometimes, they find my locks and tear them away and break their way into my passageways and I must wait for them to leave before I can leave the house safely and go and replace them." Erik straightened himself and began arranging his tools as he spoke to her.

"And there are the people, the men and women who dwell above us, who must never suspect that I am any more then a ghost. The ordinary people of Paris, like you, they are, at times, even more dangerous to me then the _others_, and I am horribly dangerous to them. So there are doors to keep them out as well." He was silent for a moment, but then he added, "Sometimes I am careless, and I leave those doors open."

"Hasn't anyone been in here before except for me?" the child asked. Erik went quite stiff and said in a nearly choking voice, "Yes, I have entertained on a few occasions. Oh yes! Once I had four visitors in one night. It was a regular birthday party."

"Did you get any presents?" Suzette asked innocently, but Erik was no longer listening.

"What is behind this door?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. Erik looked at the door and laughed shortly.

"There's nothing back there anymore, my dear. It's a passageway to what is left of the first house I built. I haven't been over there for at least ten years."

"Then let's go and see it!"

"No, Suzette. You don't want to go over there. Who knows what sort of state it's in? It's probably infested with rats." Erik turned to leave the workroom, but Suzette pulled at his sleeve and was adamant that she see the old house. Erik sighed and opened the door for her. He took a lantern from a hook on the wall and they walked through a passageway so small that Erik had to bend down to fit. He chuckled coldly to himself and said, "I suppose I was smaller once." Suzette ran her hand along the walls of the tunnel and dust and hunks of plaster came away. The passage seemed to have been dug through several layers of plaster, and brick. They had only gone a few yards when suddenly Erik caught hold of her shoulder and pulled her back.

"Careful! I didn't realize how much higher the new house was than the old when I dug this." He held the lantern out and Suzette saw what he meant. They were on the edge of a twenty-foot drop.

Suzette looked down at the old house, which was little more than a large room with makeshift furniture and a few poorly made cabinets. The room was in a shamble, furniture smashed, papers thrown about. There was a corner that had clearly caught on fire at one point, and a dark stain on the floor. Erik's breathing became heavy and he grasped the wall as he slowly lowered himself to the floor.

"What happened here?" Suzette asked him.

"I'd nearly forgotten. . ." he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?"

"This was where I built my first house. I was so young then. . .I thought that no one would ever cross the lake to find me. . .and I used tools and lumber which I had to sneak about to steal. It wasn't long before the _others_ noticed me and began to search for my hiding place…"

"Did they find you?" Erik couldn't answer but he nodded and gestured toward the mess below them.

"But how did you get away?" He covered his mask with his hands.

"I don't remember exactly…somehow I pulled away…there was fire, I think…I got out of the house…Or perhaps the Daroga found me inside…I don't remember anymore."

"Who is the Daroga?" Suzette asked, but Erik had already risen and was dusting himself off.

"Never mind," he told her, "It hardly matters now. Come on. Lets go back into the house. I shall seal this passage up. It's no good anymore." Suzette followed him inside, wondering what a daroga was.

Once they were safely inside the house Erik shut the door firmly.

"I should seal this up for good," he said to no one in particular and to Suzette he said, "That's enough exploring for now. Let's have some dinner and go to bed."

During their dinner, it seemed to Erik that Suzette began acting very foolishly. She told him that she hated her food and she refused to eat it. When he suggested to her that she just have a little so she wouldn't be hungry, she crossed her arms, tightened her lips, and blinked her little eyes at him in a most unattractive manner.

"Little girls are such funny things," he said, more to himself then to her.

"No, you're funny!" she retorted, "And you're mean, too. I'm not eating this!" With that, she picked up a roll and threw it at him. Erik was quite confused. Moments ago, this had been a seemingly enchanting little child, but now she seemed to have been possessed by a food-throwing demon. His confusion turned to frustration and he said,

"I don't know what has gotten into you, mademoiselle, but if you are going to be pelting me with bread, perhaps it's time we went to bed." Suzette scrunched up her face even more and banged her little fists on the table.

"I don't want to go to bed!" she screamed. Erik rose so abruptly that the table nearly capsized and Suzette pulled back, afraid that he might strike her.

"_We are going to bed right now!"_ Erik bellowed in a voice that seemed to shake the whole lake. He grabbed Suzette and lifted her over his shoulder like a heavy bag and carried her into her bedroom, where he dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed.

"I want some water first!" Suzette demanded.

"Are you going to throw that at me too?" he asked mockingly.

"I only threw the bread at you because I was mad that you won't take off that mask!"

"That's ridiculous and I'm not taking it off, nor am I bringing any water or anything else!"

"Then I'm not going to sleep!" the child insisted and she got up and began to bounce about on the bed. She watched Erik watching her. His arms were crossed and he leaned against the doorframe and glared at her through the eyeholes of his mask.

"You're a bad girl!" he informed her. But she stuck her nose in the air and bounced to the floor. She ran over to the locked door and began tugging at it and pounding on it.

"I want to go in this door!" she demanded.

"I'm not opening anymore doors for you, mademoiselle. And even if I did, I would never open that one."

"I want to go in!" she screamed again and again as she stomped her feet. Erik had had enough. He sprang into the room like a cobra, picked up the little girl and tossed her onto the bed. She was screaming and she moved to get up again, but Erik pointed a bony finger at her and said, low and dangerously, "You are going to be quiet right now and stay on this bed." The girl stopped shrieking and began to hiccup as tears rolled down her face. Erik turned and left the room and the little fiend cried out, "I hate you, Erik! You're not my friend anymore!" And Erik was convinced that little girls were the most hateful of creatures and he resolved that in the morning he would tie her up in the communists' dungeon, a very dark and secluded place of which he knew and where he doubted even the rats would find her.

When Erik opened his eyes the next morning, Suzette was standing before him in the oversized nightdress. There were salty streaks beneath her eyes but she was smiling at him. Erik instinctively put his hand to his mask and straightened it as he sat up.

"Good morning, Erik," she chirped. Erik blinked beneath his mask.

"What are we going to do today?" she asked cheerfully as she sat beside him.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, "You said that weren't friends any longer." Suzette seemed to be confused for a moment but then she rose up on her unsteady little feet and all but threw herself upon him. Erik sat in shock as she got her arms around his neck and assured him over and over that she hadn't really meant it. Erik sighed. He knew of course, that he wasn't of any great forgiving nature but maybe just because she felt so warm and sweet in his arms, he felt that he might do well to give her another try.

"Well Suzette, I had planned my whole day around tying you up in a bag and dropping it into the lake this afternoon. Now what am I supposed to do to amuse myself?" Suzette held him tighter and said innocently, "You could show me what's behind that door in the bedroom."

"I told you before. I will never open that door again. I made a promise that I would seal that room up and never use it again and I intend to keep that promise." Suzette began to pout and Erik had to think of something quick to avoid another episode like the night before.

"I know! Let's go for a picnic!"

"A picnic?" Suzette laughed, "We can't go for a picnic! It's dark out."

"But it's always dark here. Come on. You go and get dressed and I shall pack us a lovely basket and take you to the perfect place for a picnic." Suzette seemed to think about it for a moment. There was something appealing to her about seeing what lay beyond the lake and thumping around in the darkness for a place to eat breakfast.

Suzette ran to the bedroom and put on her dress, which had become somewhat dirty and torn from the past days' adventures. She emerged, moments later, and found Erik already in the boat. He had produced a merry little picnic basket, which sat in the middle of the boat. He stepped onto the dock in order to lift the small girl into the boat and set her down on a little cushion, which sat on the bottom.

He paused for a moment and seemed to look her over.

"We'll have to get you a new dress soon, Suzette. You're an absolute disgrace." He ran his thin fingers over her head in attempt to smooth her messy curls but she pushed him away. Erik looked down and observed, to his astonishment, that she was barefoot.

"What became of your shoes?" he demanded.

"They got lost."

"Well go and find them. You'll cut your little feet." Erik lifted her back onto the dock and she scuffled reluctantly to recover the lost shoes. She took her time coming back and took even longer putting the shoes on.

"Are we ready to go?" Erik asked her coolly once she had finished. Suzette nodded and the boat began to move through the darkness. Suzette watched as the house seemed to melt away. The stars above them began to disappear as well and soon the only thing Suzette could see were Erik's eyes, which seemed to burn in the darkness. Suzette crawled over to him and groped around until she found his arm.

"Are you frightened, Suzette?" he asked her gently.

"No." she lied. She didn't like this darkness as much as she though she would have. After several minutes of complete blackness a light suddenly appeared far above them. Suzette stared at the pale shape above her and it's reflection on the dark water at her side.

"What is that light, Erik?"

"That is daylight coming through the air vent." He looked up and the small square of light shone on him as they passed beneath it. "It is about the only daylight I ever see for my part. But be very still now Suzette, we are coming to a place where you can hear almost anything that is going on above us."

Suzette strained her ears and before long she could hear the echoes of many different voices floating down on them. Erik whispered to her, "It amazing the useful things one can learn by listening to people who don't think you can hear them."

Suddenly, they could feel the bottom of the boat scraping on some hard surface and Erik had to get out and push it until it went on it's own again. Now, the boat moved faster, as if it were in a flowing stream and no longer in the still lake. Erik lit a lantern and Suzette observed that they were indeed, traveling down a narrow passage. Then, in the distance they could hear the echoes of water, flowing, pouring, and thundering.

"We're nearly there," Erik informed her and suddenly, the boat plunged a short distance and they were in a chamber so tall that Suzette couldn't even see how far up it went. Opposite them, there was a large opening, several feet in the air, from which streamed the waterfall which they had heard as they approached. The water then seemed to fill the room and then spill over and flow away down two dark holes on either side of the room. The boat floated up to a flat ridge that stuck out from one wall about two feet above the water level and turned at the corner so it disappeared under the waterfall. Erik climbed up first with the basket and tied the boat off to a pillar, then reached down and lifted Suzette out.

"How deep is this water?" Suzette asked, eyeing the dark water suspiciously. Erik didn't answer, but set to laying out all of the picnic things just as he wanted them. Suzette sat down beside him and had a lovely meal while Erik sat thoughtfully, singing softly to himself.

"Aren't you hungry, Erik?" Suzette asked. Erik didn't answer but took an apple from the basket and began to slice it into tiny pieces that he stuck, one-by-one, in his mouth. Meanwhile, Suzette had finished her food and climbed gingerly back into the boat, untying it from the pillar. Erik watched her in silence as she rowed it into the water.

Suzette had a good time as she sat playing in the boat and imagining herself to be sailing about on the sea. After a time she looked up at Erik, who had finished playing around with his apple and was reading a book by the light of a lantern.

"What is it you are reading about, Erik?" He muttered something, which sounded to her like, 'pirates'.

"Are there any fish in this lake?"

"No." he answered without looking up, "No fish. But there is a sea monster."

"No there isn't any!" cried Suzette.

"There is."

"What does it look like?"

"I'm not sure, except that it does have a rather long, spiny tail." Suzette considered this for a moment.

"I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself."

"How could there be a sea monster if there are no fish?" Erik looked up from his book and stared at her through the holes in his mask. His eyes shone in the darkness.

"It doesn't eat fish," he said simply, and returned to his book.

Suzette continued her playing, now fancying that she was an Indian princess floating through the jungle on a barge. Suddenly she heard a soft, low sound that made her shutter. She turned to ask him what the sound was, but to her horror she saw that he had disappeared, silently leaving the lantern, the book, and his black cloak behind.

"Erik?…" she whispered timidly. There was no reply, only the sound grew louder as if its source was coming closer. Suzette ducked down into the boat, trembling fiercely as she strained to hear the sound again. It was deep and beautiful, like the song of a whale, and Suzette was tempted to look and see if she could see the spiny, long tail of the sea monster. Finally curiosity got a hold of her and she peaked cautiously over the side of the boat into the black water. She could see nothing but her own reflection and she leant a little further in.

In an instant a bone, white hand reached from the blackness and pulled her head-first into the water. Suzette panicked and thrashed about as she was drug down into the darkness. Finally she came gasping and sputtering to the surface with her eyes and nose full of water. As her sense returned to her she heard a low chuckling and observed that Erik sat casually in the boat, watching her. Suzette shrieked, wailed, and scolded at him, but Erik only laughed.

"I told you I would drop you in the lake this afternoon," he said amiably as he lifted her from the water and wrapped her in his cloak.

"You are the meanest man alive!" she snarled at him, though she wasn't really angry. It had been a pretty good trick. She spent most of the journey back to the house, trying to get him to tell her how he did it.


	4. In the Village

The few people that remained in the road hardly noticed them as they hustled about, laughing merrily as they picked up the last details of their Christmas holiday. It was unusually late to be out and the winter chill was bitter, but no one seemed to think much of it as the kindly spirit of Christmas has a way on nestling itself in even the shortest of tempers. Suzette peeked out from behind the folds of Erik's dark cloak and stared wide-eyed at all the lovely shop windows, each one more delicious than the last. They were filled with ribbons and lace, sweets and cakes, charming little toys and a beautiful little doll, which caught the wistful stare of every little girl who happened past her.

Erik led her to a lovely shop full of fancy dresses for girls where he pulled her into the shadows and knelt down to whisper to her.

"Now we're going to get some things more fitting for a little girl than that funeral dress." He took her hand and placed a rather large sum of money into it.

"You go on in there and get all the things you need." Her lip quivered and she asked, "Aren't you coming too?"

"No, love."

"But what will they think of me coming in alone?"

"Just tell the shop keeper that your parents left you off to buy some things for a Christmas present, while they shopped alone."

"But I don't know what to get."

"Well for heaven's sake, do you think that I do? Just go and pick out some things that you'd like to wear and try them on. If you need more money come out and get it. Then change into a dress that you like and don't forget to get a warm coat, and sturdy shoes, and pair of gloves, then have them send the rest to this address." He stuffed a little bit of paper into her other hand.

Suzette nodded forlornly and went into the store alone. The clerk seemed cross with a young child entering her store unaccompanied by a parent and promptly refused Suzette when she asked if she might try some dresses. But when Suzette told her the story that Erik had made up and showed her the money that he'd given her, the clerk changed her mind and smiled and cooed sweetly as she helped her to pick out some dresses, hats, shoes, undergarments, and a warm winter coat.

"Such a pretty little bird. How could your parents leave you here alone?"

"Well, perhaps they are buying a Christmas present that they don't want me to see."

"Well, they'll be pleased to see you dressed so nice. Where on earth did you get this hateful dress?"

"It's my sister's," Suzette lied, "I had to wear it because my uncle died suddenly."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Suzette paid the clerk, thanked her, and asked that the clothes that she wasn't wearing be mailed to the address that Erik had given her. The clerk looked at the bit of paper and asked, "Who is O.G.?"

"My papa," Suzette lied and then left the store, dressed like a little lady. She went back to the spot where Erik had left her and was startled by the fact that he had left.

"I'm sure he'll be right back," she told herself, "I shall wait right here for him." She glanced nervously around the street. Nearly all of the shoppers had returned to their own homes and the toyshop had dimmed its lights and closed its doors. Suzette noticed sorrowfully that the lovely doll was no longer in the window. Somewhere, a little girl would be receiving a lovely Christmas present. Suzette caught a movement to her side and saw Erik coming towards her quickly. She stepped out to greet him, but two large arms suddenly enveloped her from behind. She cried out and an enormous hand was clapped over her mouth.

"What are you doing out here all alone, sweetheart?" the stranger hissed to her, "Poor little thing, are you lost? Don't worry, I know someone who is looking for you right now." Suzette kicked the man and bit his hand. He dropped her angrily and said, "I wouldn't cross me if I were you, little girl!"

The man didn't have a chance to elaborate. Erik had crept up behind him and got a cord of some kind around his neck. Moments passed and the man's eyes bulged as he clawed at his throat. Both he and Erik fell to the ground and the man hit his head on the pavement hard. Erik released him and grabbed Suzette, who stood terror-stricken by this second attack. They ran through back streets and courtyards. Erik seemed to be trying to lose anything that might be following them. He climbed over a wall and they hid in a gardener's shed while Erik attempted to catch his breath.

"Do you suppose that I killed him?" he asked. Suzette hated to think either way.

"Why are they after me?" she wailed, "Why won't they leave me alone?"

"When did they start after you, Suzette?" Erik asked between gasps.

"Just after papa died. I went to the Mass with the other children from the orphanage and as we were leaving a man grabbed me and dragged me away while the sisters were gathering everyone together. I kicked him until I got away and then I ran as fast as I could. He chased me all over the town until I hid in the graveyard and you saved me." Suzette cried at this horrible memory and Erik held her close as he climbed back over the wall. Once they were on the other side, he set her down and they made their way back to the entrance to his dark kingdom, which Suzette had learned earlier was a small, hidden opening in a stone wall in a perfectly normal looking courtyard near the Rue Scribe. After a while, Suzette grew tired and Erik carried her again.

Just as they were nearing the courtyard, they sensed a dark presence watching them from the shadows. Erik ran with every ounce of strength he could muster from his aching legs and darted into the opening in the courtyard just as the man was turning the corner. The man ran into the courtyard and screamed in fury. They had disappeared as if by magic.

Down they went, darting through a maze of corridors in complete blackness. Erik went so fast that he banged his arm as they turned a corner. He dove into the secret door that he had shown Suzette on the way up to the world. She remembered the sadness in his voice when he had told her, "I never see the sunlight, Suzette. You see, I can only go into the world at night, when no one will see me."

He didn't stop until they were safely in the drawing room of the house. Once there, he set Suzette down and began stomping his feet and cursing.

"What is it Erik? He can't get us down here."

"He saw us! He saw where we went. If he searches the courtyard, he may find the opening and then . . ." Erik stopped here. Suzette was frightened by his terror.

"We'll have to leave. It's not safe here anymore."

"I'm sorry!" Suzette wept, "It's all my fault!" Erik embraced her.

"It's all right. I won't let them get you. I shall find us a nice little flat to stay in. It will be lovely. Now, it's time for bed. Go on now." Suzette disappeared into the bedroom and appeared a few moments later in the oversized nightgown.

"Yes, Madam?"

"Erik, I'm still scared. Will you come and tuck me in?" she asked.

"Very well, Suzette," he replied and rose and followed her into the bedroom. He lifted her up and tucked her into the little bed.

"There now, go to sleep."

"Sing me a lullaby," said she. Erik took a deep breath and seemed to ponder the request.

"A lullaby…" he whispered to himself. At last he knelt beside her and sang a song as sweet and tender as an angel's love. His voice was warm and clear and even though she didn't know the language of the words, she knew they meant that she was safe and loved. When he finished the lullaby he reached slowly for her, as if he meant to stroke her, but then withdrew his hand.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

"Will you sing that song again for me tomorrow, Erik?"

"If you like. Now go to sleep."

"Erik?"

"Yes, Suzette."

"If you took off the mask, I could kiss you goodnight." Erik said nothing for a moment and when he spoke again his voice was in pain.

"I would love to kiss you goodnight, Suzette. But I'm afraid that if you saw my face you would have nightmares for the rest of your life."

"Do you think so? How could I be afraid, when I know that it's only you."

"Just leave it be, Suzette." She sighed and put up her arms for a hug. He knelt down once more to embrace her and she hung her arms about his neck, giggling mischievously.

"All right now, let go."

Suddenly Erik cried out in horror for she had taken the mask. He tried desperately to remove her from his neck, but she held him fast.

"Let go of me you little vixen!" he screamed through his tears but instead she lifted her face to his and kissed him gently on the cheek. He pried desperately at her little hands and she finally released him and fell backward onto the bed. She stared at him in sorrowful fascination.

Now she understood why he wore the mask. Now she understood why he hid himself away from the world. His skin appeared to have been melted off to reveal a hideous skull. He was as white as a bone, except around his eyes and mouth, which were black holes sunken into his head. His nose was almost non-existent. It was like the face of a corpse, but with the terrifying aspect of movement. But even as it moved, it showed no emotion, other than a frozen expression of fear. And in the dimness of the room, his eyes were not visible. They were dark spots that seemed to reflect and swallow the light at the same time.

Erik screamed again, wordlessly and covered his face with his hands.

"Erik?…" Suzette whispered bravely.

"Why, why, why?" he screamed as he fell to his knees sobbing and shaking. Suzette watched him and slid down from the bed. She put her hand on his back and knelt beside him.

"I'm sorry that I did it Erik," she whispered to him, "I only wanted to tell you that I love you. Please don't be angry at me." He rose and held her so tightly that Suzette began to wonder if something inside her would crack. They remained this way for some time and neither spoke. At last, Erik lowered the child into the bed once more and took the mask from her small hand.

"You don't have to wear it now, Erik," she assured him.

"Hush now. You are pushing your luck." And he wiped away tears before placing it on his face.

"Have I hurt you?" she asked. He petted her hair and squeezed her hand.

"No, my dear little Suzette. I'm sorry for being mean. Now it's time for you to sleep." He rose and went to the door.

"Suzette?" he said softly.

"Yes Erik?"

"I love you too."

"Goodnight, Erik."

"Goodnight." And he shut the panel soundlessly behind him and tiptoed away.


	5. Noel

**Chapter Four**

**Noel**

Suzette danced about the organ, golden curls bouncing and ribbons flying about her like banners. Erik played nearly every merry song he could think of. Together they had decorated the underground house with tinsel, holly, and candles. The walls were adorned with a numerous amount of lovely, delicate snowflakes, which Suzette had cut from white paper. The floor was covered with their white trimmings and every now and then Suzette scooped up a handful and threw them in the air, laughing as they came drifting down like real snowflakes. As Erik's song came to an end she flopped down on the floor, near the roaring fire, and selected a chocolate from a lovely box that was all wrapped in golden paper.

"What fun!" Erik exclaimed, "It's never been Christmas here before!"

"How can Christmas not come here?" Suzette asked with laughter, "When it's Christmas it's Christmas! It doesn't matter where you are."

"No, It's you that did it! You brought the magic with you when you came." Suzette just laughed. He didn't understand.

"Now what shall we do?" he asked her.

"Well, what time is it?" Erik removed his pocket watch.

"My word, its nearly one in the morning!"

"Well, we've missed Christmas Mass, so I suggest that we say a Christmas prayer." She rose and got a candle and set it on the floor before her.

"I've never prayed before." Erik told her hesitantly as he moved to join her, " I doubt that He would listen to me, anyway."

"He will. Just thank Him for the things that you have and ask Him for the things that you want."

"But I want so many things. How many things can I ask for?"

"As many as you want, silly. But it works best if you ask for things that you wish you wanted."

"Things that I wish I wanted?" he asked and Suzette nodded as she folded her hands. "Listen, I'll show you how."

Erik folded his hands and recited the prayers after Suzette. He thanked God for bringing him Suzette and making her able to love him. He thanked Him for giving him a human heart that could love her back. He hesitated for a moment; but then he opened his heart and asked Him to take away the hate and jealousy from his soul. He was suddenly filled with despair. Why would God hear him crying now when he had allowed him to suffer for so long?

Erik looked over at Suzette, who sat with her eyes closed. He had no doubt that she was talking with God. But as he watched her, Erik felt a startling sensation inside himself. It was very faint at first, and deep within him. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and it grew stronger. It was a feeling of not being afraid or sad. It reminded him of the time when Christine had promised to be his living wife. It was like love, coming from thin air. And it didn't disappear. It withdrew within him and made itself into a small flame inside him. Erik sat quietly in the firelight, wondering if it was real or if he'd only imagined it.

Suzette finished talking with God and opened her eyes.

"Did you talk with Him?" she asked Erik. He shook his head.

"No. But I felt something."

"Good. That's good for a first prayer." And Erik was pleased with this.

"What would you like for Christmas, Erik?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully.

"Well, what is the thing you want most?" Erik's gaze shifted to the floor. When he spoke again his voice was strange, as though the words labored him to speak them.

"What I wanted most….I had for one moment only…It was the happiest I've ever been.But…" Suzette looked at him with tears of compassion in her eyes.

"Did you lose it?" she asked.

"You might say so," he replied softly, "Yes. At any rate, I shan't have it again."

Suzette thought for a moment and said as if to comfort him, "When those ladies came and took me away from my father's house, I had to leave behind all of my things. I had a little treasure chest in which I kept pictures of my mother and other things that I loved. It was wooden with elves and fairies carved in the lid. I suppose that as lost as well." She looked up at him sadly and her dear little face nearly sliced his heart in two.

Suddenly Erik sat up straight and his voice became quite cheerful again as he said, "Oh, I don't know what I'm saying!…I've never had so much fun in my life as I've had the past few weeks!…I have a new little angel to play with…and…and, well… I have more now then… then I ever asked for!" Suzette smiled when she heard this.

"And I do as well!" she exclaimed.

"Now what should we do?" he asked her.

"It's time for bed, now," she said and she took off her shoes placing one on the hearth and one outside the door to her room. Erik folded his arms in a most disapproving way.

"This had better not be another ploy to keep from wearing your shoes, you silly little thing." Suzette stared at him in amazement.

"Don't you know about Father Christmas, Erik?"

"No, what is that?"

"Father Christmas! If you leave your shoe by the fire place, he will come and put in money!"

"Then I would put out both my shoes if I were you." Suzette shook her head and laughed. Once she had straightened her little shoe just the way she wanted it, she ran over to where Erik still sat thinking and snatched away his mask and kissed him good-night before he could even protest. Erik predicted that this would become a nightly ritual.

"Happy Christmas, Erik," she said, "And good-night!"

"Happy Christmas, Suzette." And Erik watched her as she disappeared into her room.

Suzette awoke from a sweet dream the next morning and rose immediately. She scurried from the bed, dropped to the floor, and ran out searching for Erik and tripping over the oversized nightdress all the way. She found him setting a nice breakfast on the table by the lake and tugged on his shirt to get his attention.

"Good morning, my little Suzette! I hope you are well?" She threw her arms around his waist and said, "Joyeux Noel, Erik!" He laughed and patted her hair.

"Let's go and see what Father Christmas has brought me!" she squealed and Erik followed her to the hearth where she collected her shoe. She peeked inside and then tipped it over into her hand. She laughed in delight as a gold piece rolled out and fell into her palm.

"It's a gold coin!" she shouted jubilantly and she held it up for Erik to see. He seemed to be amazed.

"That's incredible!" he exclaimed, "You know, I have to say, in truth, I didn't really expect there to be a thing in that little shoe of yours but lo and behold! There it is! A lovely gold piece, just for Suzette! And you laughed when I told you that you ought to have put out both shoes." Suzette grinned with pride and held the dear coin so fondly, Erik wondered if she would ever spend it.

"Well, now it is time for our lovely Christmas breakfast," he announced and they went back to the table which was lain with lovely sausages and little white cakes that were decorated with sugar. Erik helped Suzette into her seat and she set the little coin in an honored place beside her plate.

They began their breakfast and Erik told her how he had been up the whole night and found them a jolly little flat which would be perfect for the time being. He was explaining that they would be leaving that very night, when suddenly Suzette jumped up from her seat and thrust her diminutive finger out at the dark lake. "What's that?" she shouted.

Erik looked and saw, in the distance, a little boat, making its way toward them.

"Why, it's my boat!" he exclaimed in wonder. Suzette became frightened and took his hand.

"Do you suppose it's those men who are after me? Do you suppose that they found the way in through the labyrinth like you said?"

"Don't worry, Suzette," he said warmly, "I would never let them hurt you. Besides, the boat seems to be empty." As the boat drew nearer and nearer, Suzette and Erik stood peering and trying to see what the cargo of the boat could be.

"There's something in that boat. What is it?"

"It looks like boxes!" Suzette said unsurely.

"Well, boxes are no harm. Let's go and see!" So the two went down to the dock to receive the boat and whatever was inside it. The boat knocked gently against the dock and Suzette exclaimed, "It's the parcels! It's the dresses and things that I bought in the city. They've been delivered!"

"Well let's make sure that it's all here," said Erik and he began removing items from the boat. As he removed each package Suzette opened it and announced its contents. There had accumulated quite a neat little pile on the dock when Erik pulled out a box that Suzette didn't remember.

"Well let's open it and find out!" and he handed the box to Suzette, who began to open the packaging. When the box was opened and the contents revealed Suzette eyes sparkled and she gave a little sigh. Enveloped inside the glistening paper, was the lovely little doll from the store window; the prettiest doll which every little girl in the neighborhood had begged their parents for. Suzette removed the doll from the package and read the little card attached to her hand. She looked up at Erik.

"It says that her name is Elizabeth."

"Does it?" Erik replied. Suzette looked from the doll, to Erik, and back to the doll again. She gently and lovingly fingered her soft hair, delicate hands, and fine dress. Suddenly she hopped up and threw her arms around him crying "Thank you! Oh! Thank you so much!" and Erik was quite pleased with himself.

Erik removed the remaining boxes from the boat and checked their contents but Suzette had lost interest in the procedure and now sat on the dock, cradling her new baby and cooing to her softly. She didn't even look up again until Erik came to the very end of the stack when Suzette let out another small cry and bounded into the boat, nearly capsizing it in the process.

"It's the treasure chest! It's here!" she shrieked gleefully and she lugged a small trunk from the boat. Erik helped her to pull it onto the dock and examined it carefully.

It was a well-used box with many scratches and badly in need of paint. In its lid were carved the images of shining fairies dancing in the moonlight and dark-eyes elves casting evil spells. It had, at one point, had a lock but it had long since been dismantled and all that remained was the keyhole, drilled into the aging wood.

Suzette turned away and opened the lid so Erik couldn't see its contents as she rummaged through her treasures, making sure each was in its place. He stood watching and respecting her privacy until she closed the lid, satisfied.

"Well, wasn't this a nice Christmas surprise? Now, let's say we finish our breakfast and you can get dressed in your new clothes. We have a busy day ahead of us. We must pack our things so that we will be ready to move once nighttime comes." Suzette rose and said, "But first I want to give you your Christmas present!" She opened the lid of the treasure chest and pulled out something made of shining metal, and taking his hand in hers and placing on his palm, she said, "It's an angel. Papa gave him to me to watch over me and bring me good fortune. Now he can be your angel. Happy Christmas!" Erik held the angel to the light to examine it. His delicate wings and shining harp were engraved on a thin square of gold, which hung from a gold chain. His eyes shone handsomely and his lips were posed as if he were singing a heavenly carol.

"It's the angel of music!" he exclaimed and Suzette asked him if he liked it.

"I love it, Suzette. Thank you so much! I shall keep him always." Suzette's eyes shone and she held Elizabeth in one arm as she took his arm in the other.

"Now you must get dressed and we must begin packing."

"Must we pack everything in the house, Erik?"

"No, only what we will need. We shall be moving again soon. You see, my little Suzette, we cannot remain in Paris. There are too many people now who know of this place. We will come back for the rest of our things when we've gotten a new house ready. But now we must take what we can and go to our new flat. Hurry now, we must be ready to move by nightfall." And Suzette nodded in understanding and flew to her room to dress for the day.


	6. In the Flat

**Chapter Five**

**In the Flat**

Once it had become quite dark on Christmas night, Erik carried Suzette, wrapped in a warm blanket, through the snowy, deserted streets to a rather undesirable part of town, where they climbed into a window and up a dark, creaky staircase. Erik set her down and knelt on one knee.

"Do try and stay standing, sleepyhead. Now watch while I open this door with magic!" Suzette watched with weary eyes as he gently pushed the doorknob with two fingers, and then blew into the keyhole. He turned the knob sharply and there was a click as the door came open and the two of them entered the small, cold space. Erik lit the room with a candle.

The flat was small and cramped. There was room for a bed and a table for two. It had no furnace and was heated only by a fireplace, which emitted little heat and a great deal of choking black smoke. There was only one small window, which was boarded up so that not even a streak of daylight could come through. Erik sensed Suzette's disgust and assured her that they would only be there a short while. Suzette only nodded in understanding. She was too tired to complain.

Erik pulled a tarp from the bed and they were suddenly blinded and suffocated with dust. He then blew and beat on the mattress until he was satisfied that it was clean enough. He wrapped the blanket tightly around Suzette and set her on the bed gently.

"Now, I must go and get our things. You stay right here in this little bed, and go to sleep. No matter what, don't leave this room. I shall be back soon." She lay back and closed her eyes instantly.

"There's a good little girl." Erik tucked her in, blew out the candle, and left, securing the door behind him. Without the candle, the room was dark as the depths of hell and Suzette could hear angry and terrifying shouts of men in the street and in a distant room in the building. She would have been frightened to tears, but she was so exhausted, she fell asleep, praying that those noises couldn't find her.

She woke in pitch darkness. She heard loud sounds coming from the outside, but she couldn't remember where she was. She was suddenly filled with terror. She was afraid to stay in the bed, but she was afraid to venture into the unknown. She was lost in endless darkness. She wrung her hands and cried pitifully.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of movement at her feet. She screamed and backed away until she fell to the floor and found herself plastered against a wall. She remained there for what seemed like an eternity, listening for what the sound would do next. It moved through the blackness, away from the bed, and Suzette began trembling violently.

There was a click and suddenly the endless darkness became a room with four walls. Erik set the lamp on the table and rushed to Suzette's side.

"What is wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I didn't know where you went!" she accused, "I was afraid that those men had come back for me!"

"Oh, Suzette! I would never leave you alone if you were in danger. It will be all right. Look, here is your friend Elizabeth." He handed her the doll and she embraced it tightly. He dried her tears and said to her, "I shall make this room more homey for us. I will clean up every corner and chase all of the shadows away with candles and lamps. Don't worry, we won't be here long."

"When can we leave?" she asked.

"Quite soon. Do you know that I have already found us a house? Not like the house by the lake, but a real house in the sunlight. I just need a week or two to get it ready. I must be very crafty and work at night, for we must not let anyone see us. While we are in Paris, we must be very careful."

"Can I not play outside?"

"I am sorry, my dear little Suzette. You must remain hidden in this room until we leave for the new house, lest those men who hunt you see you playing in the snow. But don't worry. In just a few weeks, we will be free from them and you can play the day away among the trees and flowers."

"It seems like such a long time in this dark, little room," she sighed.

"Try not to think of it, my darling. Come, help me with the cleaning and soon this room will be nice and cozy."

They cleaned the room and unpacked the things that they had brought. Before long they had made the flat fit for living. Each night, Erik slinked out to work on the house in the sun, and left Suzette and Elizabeth snoozing in the light of an oil lamp. He was always back before Suzette awoke.

During the day, the child did her best to amuse herself. She made little dolls of paper to play with and Erik brought her some children's books to read, but by the end of the first week, all she did was sulk around the room. It was heart wrenching for Erik to watch.

One morning, when Suzette had slept half the day away, Erik knelt beside her and shook her until she opened her eyes.

"Come now, you can't just lay around all day, lazy bones! Get dressed!" Suzette squinted at him and said "No!" sharply and sullenly and struck his arm with her small fist. It didn't hurt, but Erik was surprised and annoyed.

"Get up and get dressed, Suzette!" he demanded as he pulled her from the bed and tried to set her on her feet. She went limp like a stringed puppet and collapsed to the floor.

"Come on," he whined, "Get up right now and act like a lady. I don't like lazy girls."

"I don't care what you like!" she snapped, "You can't make me do anything!" He stepped back, injured. She was right of course. He didn't have any right to tell her what to do. After all, he didn't even know how to be a son, much less a parent. Any influence that he would have over her would be completely voluntary on her part.

Suzette looked up at him questioningly. Wasn't he going to challenge this claim? Suddenly she realized that he was agreeing with her, that the only one in the world who could keep her safe would only do so with her permission, and the world was suddenly a rather frightening place. She sat there on the cold floor for several minutes, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly she hopped to her feet and smiling very sweetly said, "May I please have some breakfast?"

Erik was surprised at this sudden change of weather but he said, "Of course, and will mademoiselle be dining in her night dress this morning?" Suzette looked down at her nightdress and shrugged. She went and found Erik's black, wide-brimmed hat and placed it on her knotted curls.

"Now I'm ready for breakfast," came her voice from beneath the hat. Erik laughed.

"You forgot to put on your shoes."

"I hate shoes. I'm not wearing them," she announced.

"Very well then, please take your seat." Suzette looked at the table and then climbed beneath it. Erik pretended to be outraged.

"Such appalling behavior for a young lady!"

"I'm not a lady! I'm a squirrel!" she said and began to chatter. Erik stared dumbfounded.

"A squirrel! Well, what happened to Suzette? I suspect that someone has taken her during the night and dropped a little boy in her place!" Suzette giggled and sat up at the table.

"A little garcon manqué!" he exclaimed as he put out their breakfast.

During the remainder of the week, Erik tried his best to occupy Suzette with little games and songs.

"Do you like card tricks, Suzette? I know lots of fun card tricks." And she sat giggling in amazement as Erik made cards jump from one hand to a pile on a table, to another hand, and to Suzette's own apron pocket. Suzette begged him to show her how it was done and he taught her the secrets of some of the easier ones but the child began to grow bored of even this.

"Once we get into our new house, you'll have lessons," he promised.

"I don't like school," she whined.

"You'll like my lessons. I will teach you how to read and write and do numbers. Then I'll teach you to speak English, Italian, and German. I'll teach you art and music. Then you can play after lunch. There are many other children in the town for you to play with."

"How much longer will it be?"

"Very soon. Tomorrow or the day after."

The next night, Suzette heard strange sound coming from outside the room. She tried to tell herself that it was only an ally cat looking for food, but shivers were going up and down her arms and she felt sick to her stomach. She heard the sound of something trying to pry the planks that covered the window. The room shook slightly and the lamplight trembled. She looked desperately around the room, but Erik was not there. He was working at the house.

Suddenly a sound came from behind her and the door opened slowly. Suzette dove under the covers and shut her eyes tight. Arms went around her and she almost cried out, but then she heard Erik's voice whispering to her.

"Hurry, Suzette! We must go now. They've found us." Suzette was silent and wide-eyed with fear as he put on her shoes and coat, wrapped her in a blanket with Elizabeth in her arms, and carried her back out the door. Suzette saw by the lamplight that all of their things were already gone.

Erik went quickly and silently through the winding small streets. A carriage was waiting for them as they rounded a corner and Erik set Suzette on a seat where she stretched out and rested her head on Erik's arm.

"Where are we going now?" she asked sleepily.

"We are going home," he replied and they both slept through the journey.


	7. In the house in the sun

**Chapter Six**

**A House in the Sun**

Suzette laughed and danced about as Erik gave her a tour of their new home. The living room was rich in decoration, filled with paintings and shelves of books and other art. It was alive and inviting, with a cheery fire going in the hearth. It had one large arched window, which was a lovely stained glass portrait of Saint Cecelia. The ceiling was high and painted with a Nordic weaving design around the woodwork.

Adjoining the living room was a large space with an equally high ceiling. There was no furniture in this room and the walls were divided into panels. If the panels had been mirrors it would have been exactly like the type of room that a ballet would rehearse in, but the panels were like tapestries telling a story. In between each panel was an electric lamp reaching out from the wall. The floor was smooth and cool marble.

"What is this room for?" Suzette asked.

"This is where you will have your lessons."

"But there is no desk and no books."

"It's perfect. You'll see."

The next room was a shock to Suzette.

"It's a jungle!" she shouted. And indeed it was. They were surrounded on every side by strange tropical species of trees. Suzette looked above her and saw patches of daylight shining through the branches above her. Hopping about the branches were brilliantly colored little birds, which squawked at intervals. In a large clearing in this curious jungle sat a long, wooden dining table. Suzette turned to Erik and said, "Why would a dinning room be in a jungle, Erik?" Erik shrugged, "It was the best size and shape for a jungle."

"Why would a jungle be in a house?"

"I rarely express myself in the same way others do." Suzette stared about her.

"Well I suppose it is rather pretty," she said finally. Erik led her through the leaves to a hallway with wooden walls ornamented from floor to ceiling with carved wooden figures. He opened one door that led to a comparatively normal kitchen and then to a plain room with a cloak closet and a large window. The window look quite solid, so Suzette was surprised to see that when he pushed it, a large portion of the wall moved away as if on a hinge.

"When you want to go and play in the garden, you can go out this way. Suzette peeked out and saw a lovely and wild looking garden awaiting her. She looked to her right and was shocked again to find that the outside wall of the house had a heavy white door while the inside had a plain wall.

"This door doesn't open!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, it does," Erik assured her.

"Where does it lead?" she asked.

"To a lost room."

"How can a room be lost?" she demanded disbelievingly.

"My, but you are inquisitive today. While I was decorating all the rooms, I lost one. You must never go in there or you will be lost as well."

"Are you really quite serious, Erik? Would I really be lost?"

"Absolutely. Now let us see the upstairs before you go and play in the garden." Suzette gave the door to the lost room one last look and shuddered before closing up the window. She was quite sure that she would never want to go inside.

They backed into the hallway and Erik led her up a flight of stairs. Once they were in the hallway, Erik opened a door and said, "Here is my room if you wish to see it." Suzette went in and observed a comfortable and modest bedroom with a large window swathed in lace and overlooking the garden. The only thing out of the ordinary in the room was a sequence of notes painted on the wall over and over just where it met the ceiling.

"What song is that, Erik?" she asked.

"I will teach you to read it and then you can find out for yourself. And speaking of that, come, I will show you the music room."

The music room was quite large and each wall was covered in aging wallpaper, which featured a busy pattern of daisies.

"I decided to keep this room as it was," said Erik, anticipating her question.

"There sure are a lot of daisies in here," she pointed out. Erik looked about the room at the daisies. They were too large and too bright. They were very silly looking things and in the corners they were falling off the wall clumsily.

"I like daisies," he said.

The music room contained the organ and pianoforte from the house by the lake. On one wall were shelves and shelves of musical volumes. In the opposite corner sat a little desk and a music stand. On another shelf sat a violin and a viola, as well as two cases which Suzette guessed contained other instruments. The only window in the room was quite narrow and almost completely covered with vines.

"We shall have a great deal of fun in here Suzette," he said and she was obliged to agree with him.

"May I see my room?" she asked.

"Of course, my darling," he replied and led her by the hand through another door and up another staircase. At the top of the staircase was a well-lit space with a desk and a sofa.

"This will be your sitting room," he informed her, "And your bathroom is just in there." Suzette stared at the room in excitement. She had never had so much space before. He opened another door and showed her into her bedroom.

Suzette sighed with delight when she saw it. It looked just like a princess' room out of a fairy tale. The window was large and round and looked out onto the street. The ceiling was painted blue and white like the sky and was filled with angels, fairies, Pegasus's, dragons, and flying carpets. The walls were a mural of princes, thieves, damsels, elves, witches and heroes. There were shelves of enticing books and splendid toys. Suzette approached the shelves and took down a fairy in a lovely silk dress. Erik showed her how to wind her up and in an instant the fairy's wings were working and she was dancing about the floor. Suzette chose another toy, a bear this time, and wound it up. This one played a tune as it danced. Erik wound up and released a dragon, which slithered quickly about the room. Before long, the entire shelf of toys was dancing, jumping, and playing on the floor.

"Did you make them?" Suzette shouted over the racket.

"Just for you," he told her. Suzette jumped into Erik's arms with joy and kissed him.

"Is it really ours?"

"Of course, my dear Suzette."

"And those bad men won't find us here."

"Never. Do you like it, Suzette?" he asked.

"I love it!" she responded, "I want to stay forever!"

"I'm glad. Shall we start on your lessons?"

The weeks went by and Erik and Suzette became quite happy in their new home. Erik roused her early each morning and gave her lessons until lunch. After lunch, Suzette played for hours in the garden before they ate supper and Erik continues her lessons in the 'daisy room'.

It was a very private place. There were walls of shrubbery on all sides so no one could see inside. There were bursts of red, blue, pink, purple, yellow and white in every direction. There was a favorite space of Suzette's along one wall, where several large pine trees grew together and formed a lovely green cave where she could hide with Elizabeth and the other dolls that Erik made for her. She made them little beds of fine long pine needles. Then she caught hold of the lowest big branches and climbed up the tree as high as she could. There was a nice flat branch where she could sit and look over the house and into the street. She could also see into the closest garden, which belonged to a grand old lady. She liked to watch this woman working in her flowers beds, without being seen. She loved the time she spent swaying in the pine trees and playing in the soft needles as much as the time she spent with Erik in the school room and the daisy room.

Erik watched her playing with satisfaction although he disapprovingly pointed out the tears in her dresses, lost shoes and stockings, and pine needles in her hair. He wasn't angered though. He simply patted her hair and shook his head saying, "A little _garcon manqué_. That's what we have here."

One afternoon, Suzette came in earlier that usual and found Erik working on the new opera he was composing. He looked up when he heard her enter and saw that she was holding a moderately sized gray cat.

"Ahh!" shouted Erik.

"Meow," said the cat.

"May I please have this cat?" asked Suzette. Erik was confused by this request.

"What do you mean, darling? How can you have a cat?"

"I want it to live with us in the house," she explained as she set the cat on the floor. Erik eyed the animal distrustfully.

"I don't think that cats are meant to live in the house." Suzette giggled at this statement. Erik was not kidding. He looked at the cat again and the cat looked back with green curious eyes. Suddenly the cat leapt in the air and landed on Erik's lap. He shrieked and leaned as far away as he could from the cat. The cat put it's forepaws on his shoulder and sniffed at his mask.

"Meow," the cat said again. Erik cringed.

"He wants you to pet him," Suzette explained. Erik reached up slowly and petted the creature's back gingerly. It was warm and soft. The cat turned his head suddenly and Erik was afraid that it would bite, but it only licked his hand with its scratchy tongue.

"Nice, little cat. . ." Erik said meekly and petted the cat again. The cat lay on its side and fell asleep in his lap.

"So may I keep the cat in the house?" Suzette asked.

"I suppose so," he whispered as not to wake it, "As long as the cat has no objections."

As weeks turned into months and months into years, Suzette, Erik, and the cat, which came to be called Othello, grew right into the house in the sun. Erik relished every footstep of Suzette progress but she grew so quickly that she often kept him off guard. She became generous and affectionate, befriending the children in a nearby orphanage and bringing them toys that Erik had made. Erik enjoyed his little girl and devoted himself entirely to caring for her and teaching her. He watched with delight, as she grew smarter, wilder, and all the more charming in his eyes. He was enchanted and bewildered by her funny habits. She played like a boy, crawling and rolling on the ground and climbing in trees and she had all but abandoned the custom of shoe wearing. She cared little for lovely ribbons, make-up, or how to dance. She was interested more in books, art, nature, and experiencing all of the beauty that life had to offer. Her playfulness and disregard of custom and etiquette caused him worry from time to time but he cherished her so that he thought to himself, "If there is any fault in it, let me take the blame and leave my _garcon manqué_ as I so love her." And so he did and he was happier then he ever imagined that he could be, living with a young girl and a cat in the house in the sun.


	8. Madame Colette Meets the Ghost

**Chapter Seven**

**Madame Colette Sees a Ghost**

Madame Colette lived all alone in a rather large house. Her husband had passed on several years earlier and her only child had been killed by scarlet fever when she was only eight years old. She had a fine manner as she was of a prominent family and she had a kind heart. Her house was neat and grand and full of interesting trinkets that she had collected over the years while traveling about the world with her husband. She loved children and the children of the town were always invited to play in her yard and her house. She gave them all sweets and cakes and let them touch her souvenirs as she told them the story that went with each one. It was a well-known fact among the children of the town that Madame Colette was the finest old lady in the whole of France and quite possibly the entire world. In fact, the only time she ever showed the slightest sign of aggression was when the shook her elegant fist at the rabbits and crows that she caught in her garden, for the only thing she loved more than spoiling the neighbors' children was tending her flowers and vegetables.

One evening she was in her home, reading her nightly scriptures as was her custom, when she heard a sound coming from outside. She opened her back door and peered into the vegetable garden, expecting to see a deer or rabbit, gobbling her lettuce. The garden was quiet and still and there was no sign of whatever had made the noise. Her eyes skimmed the flower garden and fruit trees and she started when she saw two blaring eyes peering at her from within the shrubbery, dividing her property from another garden that had been empty for years. She stared at those glowing eyes for a moment, a little bit frightened, and then realized with relief that they must be the eyes of a cat.

"Is that you making all that noise out here?" she called, "Well run along now it's getting late." With that she turned inside the house and went back to her bible. As she read, she suddenly felt a shiver and looked up to see the same two eyes staring at her through the window. This time, however, the eyes were accompanied by the form of a man in a wide-brimmed hat. She remained frozen in her seat, too frightened to move or to cry out. The apparition examined her carefully and intelligently, and then disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Madame was quite shaken and wasn't sure what course of action to take. Had she really seen a ghost? Or was some man watching her? She'd never seen a man with catlike eyes and was sure that it must have been something else. Perhaps it had really been just a cat and she had imagined the form of a man. After all, if someone meant to harm her or steal from her, they wouldn't be standing at the window where she could see them. Finally she locked the doors, said her prayers, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Madame went down the stairs and found a small package lying in the center of the room. She was surprised and was hesitant to open it. There was a note written on the brown paper. The writing was strange and childlike and it read:

_Dear Madame Colette,_

_Please do not be afraid for I mean you no harm. I have taken up residence in the house next door and as your new neighbor I am sending you this gift. I promise not to be a bothersome neighbor. You will hardly know that I'm here. I trust that you will do the same and disregard anything unusual that you might see or hear as standard occurrences for a haunted house. If you should require anything on my part, do not hesitate to let me know about it._

_Yours Truly,_

_The Ghost_

Madame opened the package and inside there was a lovely hand carved and painted wooden doll. She sighed and touched it gently. "Well, he certainly is the friendliest spook I've ever heard about," she thought to herself and she wondered if she ought to send him a cake in return.


	9. Madame Colette and Suzette

**Chapter Eight**

**Madame Colette Meets Suzette**

It had been several months since Madame Colette had seen the ghost's eyes at her window and there was no doubt in her mind that the neighboring house was haunted and by a very curious spirit indeed. At night she saw smoke rising from the chimney and lights in the windows. During the day she heard music of a supernatural quality coming from an upstairs window. Even more strangely, the ghost did not seem interested in letting his house fall into disrepair. The lawn was always neat and trimmed, although no one was ever seen trimming it, the garden was in perfect health, although no one ever seemed to tend it, and one spring morning, Madame Colette awoke and looked out her window at the haunted house and nearly fell over in surprise for someone had given it a fresh coat of paint during the night. Madame was not the type to spy on neighbors, even if they were ghosts, but every now and then, the corner of her eye caught a shadow at an upstairs window or a bone white hand darting holding the door to let in a little gray cat.

The ghost seemed to offer her no malice and in fact, was quite considerate at times. For example, one morning she came out to tend her vegetable garden and discovered a lovely wire fence had been constructed to keep the little rabbits out. Another day, she went around the side of her house and found that a shutter, which had only a few days ago been hanging by one hinge, was secured tightly in place. Madame Colette tried desperately to catch the ghost in these acts, but she never saw him.

On one cool day, Madame sat in her flowerbed, pulling weeds and having a hard time of it. The work was hard on her stiff joints and the cold made the situation even worse. Suddenly she felt a presence and looked up to see a child with fair hair and plain frock who was much too old to be going about bare foot as she was.

"Do your hands hurt?" she asked concerned, "Do you want my help?" Madame was hesitant at first for she didn't like to cast her burdens on others, but something about the little waif made her except the kind offer. The girl knelt beside her and began tugging at weeds with more strength then one would expect of a girl her age.

"Mind you don't disturb any of the shoots," Madame cautioned and watched her fondly. She was amused by her boyishness for before she had pulled a small pile of weeds, she was whistling like a sailor. She would have been a pretty girl if she were dressed properly and standing up straight. She had soft golden curls and fine shining eyes. Her face showed almost no emotion, even as she whistled and Madame wondered if she were a bit simple. After a while, she changed to singing and sang a merry tune from a Mozart opera. Madame was surprised that such a humble little creature would know such a tune and began asking questions.

"That's lovely, where did you hear it?"

"It's in one of my songbooks."

"But how did you learn the notes?"

"I told you it's in one of my songbooks."

"Then you can read music? Who taught you?"

"Erik did." Madame was taken aback. She doubted that any parents who didn't mind allowing their nearly grown daughter to run about shoeless and whistle like a boy would be able to afford music lessons. She chose her next question carefully.

"Do your parents live in the village?"

"No. They live in heaven."

"Then this Erik is your guardian now?"

"Yes."

"And what does he do?"

"Mostly builds things and writes music."

"I see, and what do you do? I've never seen you around before. Has he sent you away to school?"

"No. I don't go to school. He gives me lessons everyday."

"What does he teach you?" Madame listened in wonder as the girl modestly listed her academic and artistic accomplishments. This playful orphan of a girl was no more a simpleton than she was an African tribesman. In fact, she had the education of a young man of the aristocracy.

"What is your name?" Suzette asked her, startling her from her thoughts.

"I am Madame Colette, and you?"

"I'm called Suzette."

Suzette finished pulling the weeds and Madame thought about her situation as they enjoyed a nice lunch. It was apparent, after the death of her parents, this child had somehow been inherited by a scholarly and somewhat eccentric man. Though she was quite bright and pretty, she was going to ruin with her uncivilized manner and lack of dress and etiquette. Even in the short time that they'd known one another, Madame had grow quite attacked to this little gamine and was determined to help her in anyway possible. She devised a plan to see this man, Erik, and insist that he allow her to instruct her in refined ways. She was quite sure that if she could see Suzette for an hour everyday, she could make a lady of here yet. But first she would have to find out where to find him.

"Suzette, I should like to speak with your guardian, Monsieur Erik. When would be a good time to call?" Suzette seemed disturbed.

"You could write him a note," she suggested, "He doesn't like to talk to people."

"No, I want to speak with him directly."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because I would like to ask his permission to have you come over each day so that I might teach you to be a little lady." Suzette giggled.

"Well, you needn't worry about that! He already said that I could."

"He did?" Madame asked confused, "How could he know that I would want to instruct you, when I didn't even know myself?"

"He told me to come here today. He said that he hoped that you would keep me from climbing trees and would somehow be able to nail my shoes to my feet." Madame Colette was astounded. What sort of man was this? Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of an organ, floating its way down from the window of the ghost's house. Suzette leaped from her seat when she heard it.

"Just listen! He's started my lesson without me. Thank you Madame Colette, I must go home now." Madame Colette swallowed and asked her slowly, "Do you mean to say that you live in the ghost's house?" Suzette looked from her and back to the open upstairs window.

"Promise not to tell," she whispered, "Please don't tell anyone about us. It's very important." Madame was too stunned to speak, but she nodded slowly.

"Thank you again, Madame. I will see you tomorrow after lunch." And with that she hurried back to the ghost's house. From that day forward, Suzette came to Madame Colette's house everyday to be instructed in manners and the like and she often stayed for hours talking to her about things and playing with the other children who came to see her. The kind old lady never told a soul what she knew about the ghost but the town grew more and more weary of the house, and Madame took it upon herself to keep her young charge out of suspicion.


	10. The Ghost

**Chapter Nine**

**The Ghost**

The man had been wandering up and down the road for days now. The neighbors all knew of his presence. He walked behind the houses, peering into bushes. He loitered around, watching doors. He was a silent and most disagreeable menace. When the mothers stepped out of their front doors to sweep the steps, he was there watching. When the children came in for dinner they asked, 'Who is that man?' When friends stood talking in the street, they sensed a presence and turned to see him standing right there, and listening. They all wondered who he was. They all speculated on what he wanted. They all wanted to make him leave although no one wanted to be the one to tell him so or to risk speaking to the devil for any reason. It was just as well, for the man didn't seem interested in conversation. In fact, the man only spoke to the neighbors on three occasions and the first one was purely on accident.

Madame Colette was pruning her bushes and humming to herself when she noticed an odd shape peering at her from behind a trellis covered with vines. Her first thought was that it must be the "ghost" and she had caught him at last.

"All right you rascal! Come out from there!" She cried out as the figure emerged from the leaves.

"What are you doing creeping about my garden like a snake? Haven't you anything better to do?" The man was furious at being caught. She could tell he had a short temper and he glared hatefully at her as he tried to think of a suitable alibi for a grown man who prowled through rose bushes in mid-morning.

"I am looking for my daughter. She has curly, blonde hair. Have you seen her, Madame?" He was lying through his teeth and she knew it. He knew she knew it too.

"Well," she began casually, "I have scores of children come and visit me and a good many of them are girls with blond hair." He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. She didn't believe him and no amount of fabrication would help his case. Instead he changed the subject.

"Who lives in that house?" Madame was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to ask about her strange neighbors. She regained herself and determined not to release any information that might come to harm Suzette or her friend.

"No one does."

"I'm no fool, Madame. There is a well-maintained garden and the chimney is smoking. I've often heard the sound of a violin coming from an upstairs window, which is left open. So, lets say you tell me who resides there?"

"Only a ghost." The man stared at her with consternation. He was quite sure that she was mad.

"What do you mean 'a ghost'", he demanded.

"Just what I said. There is nothing living in that house. The only one in there is dead."

"Do you really think that house is possessed by a ghost?" he demanded of her, "You must be crazy, woman! The only thing in that house is a little brat who has become quite good at fooling those who wish to be fooled!"

"You may believe whatever you like," she told him coolly, "But you are no longer welcome here, Monsieur. Leave now, or I will call that police." And she turned into her house, leaving the stranger alone and thoroughly confused.

On the second occasion, the man approached a mail carrier that seemed to be leaving the house where the "ghost" lived. The postman saw that he had been running and was out of breath. He started to greet him but the man interrupted.

"Did you deliver there?" he asked desperately, "Did you have mail for that house?"

"Of course, Monsieur. What else would I be doing here? And there was quite a bit of it too. A package that must have been full of bricks, it was so heavy. But, of course, it is always worth the trouble. That house tips quite well, you know. And there were the magazines from Paris, of course. They come every week." The stranger caught his breath. This postman liked to talk. The man hoped that he knew something.

"Well if you deliver mail there, someone must be receiving it! A young girl right? With blonde hair?" The postman seemed amazed.

"Of course not, Monsieur."

"Then who? Who is receiving the mail?" The postman rolled his eyes as if he thought the stranger a fool.

"The ghost, of course."

"Of course! Of course!" the man howled, "Who else would it be? The house is completely empty, save a ghost who plays the violin and reads his magazines!"

"And Othello, of course." said the postman, unmoved by the outburst.

"And who might Othello be?" the man asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

"The master's gray cat."

"Of course! Every ghost has a cat! May I ask why it is gray and not black?" The postman laughed and said, "You know, I asked him the same question and do you know what he-

"Oh, shut up!" the man snapped, "Then you've seen this ghost?"

"Of course, not! You can't see a ghost!"

"But you've spoken to him?"

"Yes, he comes out on the porch to talk to me. He asks me about things and we have a little chat. Then I give him his packages and magazines and he pays me and he goes inside." The man was becoming exasperated.

"Doesn't he ever get any letters?"

"Of course not! Who would write a ghost?"

"How are these packages addressed?"

"To the initials OG. Why? Are you thinking of sending him a Christmas card?" The man scowled at him.

"What are in the packages? What sort of things would a ghost and his tabby cat be ordering?" The postman straightened up.

"I am a very busy man." He told him, "I hardly have time to open up every package that I deliver."

"Of course not." said the man, hating the postman fiercely.

"Of course not. Good-day, Monsieur."

"Good-day."

Later that afternoon, the stranger came across three boys playing with a cat in front of the "ghost house". The boys were all petting the wretched animal at once and grabbing at his paws and tail. The cat was contained tightly in the oldest of the boy's embrace and the smaller two begged and whined that they should get a turn to hold him.

"Is that Othello?" the man asked them.

"Yep." they answered in chorus.

"Won't the ghost mind you playing with his cat?" The younger boys gave each other panicked glances but the oldest boy said confidently, "No, he doesn't mind."

"Do you go to the door and ask to borrow him?" The boys' eyes widened and they shook their heads wildly.

"No, sir! Go to the ghost's house? Never!"

"No? What would he do to you?" They shivered and the middle boy told the story.

"Once, a boy called Benoit took a dare to sneak into the ghost's house and bring something out. We never thought he'd come out alive! It was at least an hour-

"No! It was more like two-

"No! It wasn't that long!"

"I'm telling this story! When he came out he was shaking and thrashing about. He didn't seem to know any of us and his eyes were rolling around his head. We had to drag him back to his house and we could hear the ghost laughing after us all the way up the road."

"I saw him on the porch!" interrupted the youngest boy.

"Did not!" shouted the middle boy.

"Did too!" screamed the younger. The oldest went on.

"It was weeks before he came outside again and even longer before he could talk to us."

"Even then he never told us what happened in there," said the middle boy.

"But every now and then he sees something and starts screaming 'It's him! I see his eyes!'" The youngest boy put his hands to his face and pretended to faint.

"So no one else goes in, since Benoit?" asked the man.

"Except for Suzette." Said the youngest boy. The man stopped cold.

"Does Suzette go in?" the man asked earnestly.

"Yep." they chirped, "She is the only one allowed, though." Their faces showed how they idolized her bravery and good fortune.

"And how did she come to receive this honor?" The boys shrugged and said, "He likes her. They're friends, so she's not afraid."

"I'm not afraid, either!" piped the littlest boy, "I went up to the window once!"

"You did not!" yelled the two older boys in unison.

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Si!"

"Non!"

"Si!" They were so busy arguing; they didn't notice the man creeping off toward the ghost house.


	11. Thomas and Aurelie

**Chapter Ten**

**Thomas and Aurelie**

Suzette awoke one morning, just before sunrise. She lay in bed for a moment, trying to remember what had wakened her and then jumped to her feet and ran to Erik's bedroom.

He lay in his bed, trembling, with tears streaming down his dreadful cheeks. His eyes were open, but saw nothing in the real world. Suzette knew that he had had another nightmare and that he hadn't really wakened from it yet. She wanted to shake him and make him wake up, but she knew that even if she were able to rouse him from this state of shock, he would be delirious and very frightened. So she gathered the blanket around him tighter and sat beside him, speaking gently and hoping that she might bring him back to her or at least lull him back to sleep.

"It's nearly sunrise," she informed him, "I was thinking that perhaps I might go to the orphanage today. It's a nice day and I have nothing to do since Madame has gone to visit a friend in Paris. However, if you mean to remain in this fit I had better stay with you." She leaned over to look at him. He had ceased his trembling, though his eyes were still staring at some invisible menace. Suzette wondered if he could hear her voice.

"Last time I went to play at the orphanage, there was a new little girl there. Her name was Nicolette and she had come from another small town, where she lived with her parents and nine brothers and sisters. Can you imagine having nine brothers and sisters? She told me that her whole family had caught a fever and that she and her youngest brother were the only survivors. Her brother went to work at an uncle's farm but they sent her to the orphanage. They said that she was too little to do any work. I wish that they 'd let her go to the farm as well. She could have done some work. She could have fed the animals and helped in the field, if they'd given her a chance. They didn't have to send their own niece away."

Suzette leaned over Erik's back again to see if he was listening. She was relieved when his eyes met hers and he turned toward her slightly. The nightmare was over and he had returned to the cozy little bedroom, which was filling slowly with fresh rays of daylight.

"She told me, when I last went over there to play, that she was supposed to have a birthday today, but she was afraid that no one would even remember it."

Erik pulled himself upright and looked around the room slowly, as if trying to remember how he'd gotten there, and then looked to Suzette. She smiled and said good-morning. He glanced about him once more in a disoriented fashion and then began to laugh, first softly to himself and then louder and gladder. Suzette was taken-aback.

"Erik?" she asked, alarmed at such strange behavior. Erik embraced her and assured her that he had not gone quite mad, "Don't worry, my dear Suzette, everything is just fine. It was only a bad dream and we are together now. See how brilliantly the sun in shining? How silly of my mind to be frightened of long-gone monsters and vanquished demons when there are so many other pleasant things to think about! Now, you run and get ready to go to the orphanage and I will fetch the little doll that I have been making and you can wrap it in paper and give it as a gift to little Nicolette. And I shall give you a piece of money so that you can stop in the village and buy her a sweet."

"Are you sure that you don't need me?" she asked anxiously.

"I will always need you, Suzette. But today is too fine a day for you to be shut up in this dark house with an old ghost. Run along, and play with the other children."

Suzette went and dressed and when she came down, Erik handed her a very fine little doll that he had made. Suzette found a small key hidden beneath her long hair and turned it. The doll's arms and legs moved as if she were dancing as a little music box inside her played a lively tune.

"Oh, she's wonderful! No one could ask for a nicer birthday gift that this." Erik found a nice box and a shining ribbon and Suzette wrapped the little gift up nicely.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed and he placed a coin in her palm, "Now go and get a sweet for the little girl in the village. There's enough there to get one for yourself as well."

"Thank you, Erik," she said brightly.

"Your very welcome, dear girl. Now hurry along. Mind what you say in the village and whom you say it to and please don't go about without your shoes on." Suzette laughed and said, "Now you are bossing me around? I suppose that you want to be my Papa?" Erik started, and then turned away.

"I'm sorry, Erik. I promise that I'll be careful." He put his thin hand on her shoulder and led her to the door.

"Hurry, now. Be back soon, for I'll be missing you." With that he pushed her into the daylight and disappeared into the house. She closed the door tightly behind her and started off toward the village trying to ignore the aching in her cramped toes. She made her way down the road and crossed through a field of tall grasses. It was autumn and the breeze was cool and sweet. The grasses were alive with insects and rabbits, which peered suspiciously at her from behind their clusters and whispered about her amongst themselves. Suddenly the grasses disappeared and she was hiking down a dirt footpath that had been made by years of a farmer and his wagon full of produce, making it's way toward the village. Here, the cool, soft earth proved to be too inviting and she removed her hateful shoes and stockings and continued bare foot.

The morning was gorgeous and Suzette was enjoying her outing immensely, when suddenly she could hear the sound of other travelers approaching on horseback. She hurried to one side of the path to avoid being trampled. Suddenly a lovely white horse came bounding down the path, bearing two handsome youths; a boy and a girl.

They rode bareback, the girl seated in front of the boy so that he could hold onto her and the reins at the same time. This was necessary, for the girl seemed to want to fall off the horse with every stride and the boy was having a most difficult time keeping her from falling into the dirt. The girl seemed to be quite confidant in the boys ability to keep her upright for she was shrieking with excitement and every time she slipped in either direction, it brought on a fit of wild laughter. Suzette thought that it looked like great fun. She half expected them to race straight past her without even noticing she was there, but instead they stopped suddenly in front of her, the horse snorting and gasping and the girl falling back against the boy and screaming hilariously.

Suzette looked up at them curiously. She had not seen them before; they had never come to play at Madame Colette's. They wore fancy clothes and had an air about them that indicated a Parisian origin. Suzette wondered if they weren't there on some sort of excursion. The girl was pretty and ladylike. Her hair was black as ebony and styled into perfect ringlets while her face was perfect and fair. Suzette guessed that she had never ridden horseback before and considered it to be a great adventure. The boy had a pleasant face and a warm and kind laugh. Suzette was suddenly embarrassed and turned her face toward her bare feet.

"Hello, there! What happened to your shoes?" the boy asked. Suzette glanced up quickly then lifted the shoes and stockings up so that he could see them. The girl giggled.

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"Suzette," she answered, eyes still on the ground.

"Why did you take off your shoes, Suzette?" he asked and the girl giggled again.

"They hurt my feet," she replied shamefully.

"How funny!" the girl exclaimed. She seemed to find everything funny. The boy looked at her and her shoes piteously.

"Do you want to ride on the horse and give them a break?" he asked compassionately, "He's nice. He won't bite you or anything." Suzette looked up surprised. Did these handsome, rich children really want her on their horse with them? The girl cried out, "Thomas, we can't all three ride on this horse!" Thomas slid from the horse's back and before Suzette could say a word he had helped her up behind the girl.

"Don't worry, Aurelie. You two ride and I will lead you. Were almost to the village anyway." Thomas smiled at Suzette radiantly and she looked down shyly.

Aurelie asked her where she was going and she told her that she was going to buy a sweet for a friend's birthday. This statement was the catalyst for a long narrative given by Aurelie about the most remarkable birthday party that she'd ever had. Suzette nodded as she told her about the hundreds of presents she'd received and what each of the guests had worn, but her attention was on Thomas who was, as far as she could remember, the most fascinating boy she'd ever seen.

In no time, they had reached the village and Thomas helped her down from the horse. Suzette returned the stockings and shoes to her feet while Thomas helped Aurelie and tied the horse.

"Thank you," said Suzette, still unable to meet his gaze.

"It was nothing! Good-bye, Suzette." And he took Aurelie by the arm and led her down the road.

"Have fun at the party!" Aurelie cried over her shoulder and then burst into another fit of laughter. Suzette watched them as they made their way down the road. She considered that she ought to go on such outings more often, but she resolved that the next time she would not be seen walking barefoot.


	12. A Treasure Hunt!

**Chapter Eleven**

**A Treasure Hunt**

Suzette came crashing into the 'daisy room', startling Erik from his work. She was so excited that she slammed her arm into the door jam as she came in and now stood grasping it and hopping up and down in her bare feet as she tried to tell Erik what had happened.

"What has happened to you, my lovely little girl?"

"I was just over with Madame Colette, helping her with her flowers, and some children from down the road came up and started playing in her yard. You know how Madame is with children and of course she invited them all in for some sweets."

Erik stared at Suzette. Her eyes were wide and she was near trembling with excitement.

"Where are your shoes?" he asked in a scolding tone.

"Never mind that! Listen! One of the children was looking at one of Madame's little figurines. You know, her house is just full of things like that?" Erik did not know. He had never been inside Madame Colette's house before. He knew that Suzette knew this but he let her continue.

"This little figurine was of Cinderella, all dressed for the ball in her golden dress and silver slippers and the little girl had already fallen in love with it. So, Madame took the little treasure down from the shelf and handed it to her. Then she said 'I have so many little people that it's hard to keep them all clean and neat. I don't suppose you could keep Cinderella for me?' The little girl was delighted with the honor of looking after Cinderella and she sat silently, holding her until she and the others left."

"How lovely, but why has that left you so excited?"

"Because it reminded me of how, once, my father gave something to me to look after. He was at his desk working with his papers and things and I came into the room and crawled into his lap. He gave me an envelope from his desk and asked me if I wasn't a big enough girl to find a good safe place for important papers."

"What was in it?" Erik asked her, now quite excited as well.

"I didn't look! I went, right away, and put it in the safest place I could think of."

"The treasure box?"

"I'll bet it's still in there! Please Erik, come with me and help me look?" Erik rose from the organ, pleased at being included in this new adventure.

"A treasure hunt!" he exclaimed.

They climbed the steps hand in hand and entered the 'story book' room. Suzette pulled out the same old trunk, which she and Erik had salvaged years before. Erik smiled to himself when he saw the painted elves and princesses again. He watched his little _garcon manqué _as she blew away the dust and lovingly removed the items. There were many sketches that she had drawn and shiny rocks, which she had collected. There were old-fashioned jewelry and long, white gloves.

"They were my mother's," she told him softly, "From her wedding."

"They're lovely", Erik whispered fondly, "I'd like to see you wear them someday." Next came a Holy Communion veil and a well-loved Elizabeth.

"Ah! The lovely lady who kept you company so many nights!"

"I'm too big for her now." Suzette said sadly as she kissed her face. Erik watched, enchanted, as shining stars and paper flowers emerged from the trunk. He pointed out those he recognized. He nearly cried out with delight when he saw the gold coin that Suzette had received from Father Christmas so many years ago. Then, at the very bottom of the treasure box, there was a framed portrait of a woman who could only be Suzette's mother. Suzette stared at the picture for a long time. Erik wondered if she would cry.

"Maman was a pretty lady, wasn't she?" Erik chose from the pile of Suzette's mother's jewelry, a very lovely string of pearls and pulled Suzette close as he fastened it round her neck.

"Yes, my dear little Suzette. She was. Just like you." She fingered the round, cool little pearls. She wished that she could be a grand lady like her mother. She thought of Thomas and Aurelie. How could she have ever expected him to fall in love with a girl who didn't even wear any shoes?

"It's not here?" asked Erik, breaking the silence.

"Oh, yes it is." She smiled as she turned over the frame of her mother's portrait and unfastened the back of it. Out slid the envelope. Erik laughed.

" Your Papa was right to give it to you." She opened the envelope proudly and leaned on his shoulder so they could both read.

_My Dear Suzette,_

_I write this letter for you in hopes that it will be an answer to the questions I know that you will have. I know that it is wrong for a young girl to grow up with no mother or motherly figure to guide her, but it must be so much harder for you, my little flower, who has no one to love but a sickly old man. You know I love you with all my heart and what wouldn't I give to have some sort of family for you, but perhaps this letter, which I mean to be a record of your history, will comfort you with some knowledge of your own heritage._

_I was born the second of three brothers in a rather wealthy family. My older brother, Richard, was nearly eleven years my senior. I remember him as being very kind to me. He was always full of sweets and gifts. We spent a great deal of time together during my childhood and my big brother was a true hero to me. What I didn't see was how much he fought with my father. As the oldest son, he was expected to be heir to my father's fortune and my father watched his every move, constantly threatening him with disinheritance. As time went on, Richard had all but separated himself from my parents. I remember speaking to him after one bitter argument. _

_"They think I care about their money! Ha! I hate it and I don't love them either!" In fact, Richard had only two well-chosen loves, the violin and Elodie, a common girl from the town. My father hated both. _

_One night, Richard crept into my room to say good-bye._

"_You're master now," he said to me "Try and be happy." They left together for Sweden, changed their name, and my father never heard from them again._

_I did nicely in my new role as young master of the house. I did my best to please my father, and loved the attention that I had missed as second son. When I was fourteen, my mother died, giving birth to my younger brother, Claude. I tried very hard to be the big brother that Richard had been for me, but little could be done with Claude. He was spiteful, selfish, and fiercely hated by the whole of my father's household. Even through all of his antics, my father hardly ever even looked at him. When he died, I inherited everything that was his, including the care of my younger brother, who had inherited nothing and had no means or will to fend for himself. He spent most of his time shuffling round the chateau, harassing the maidservants, and spying on me. _

_One day, shortly after the death of my father, I received a special surprise. A letter came to me from my lost brother, offering his love and condolences. He told me how he had returned to France with his wife and small daughter and that he was supporting them with his violin in Breton. He was happier than he had ever hoped to be and he wished me the same._

"_Oh pooh!" said Claude sullenly, "He's just after your inheritance!" I didn't agree. Richard had never wanted a franc. I suspected that he had everything he wanted in his life and he simply meant to say good-bye properly. I was right. I never heard from him again._

_Now after the letter from Richard, I spent many years with only my servants and my horrible brother for company. I had no cousins or other relatives of which I was aware of and I expect that they were either dead or disowned years ago by my father. I became rather lonely and sad. But then something quite wonderful and unexpected happened. I fell, simply and easily, in love. From the moment I first saw your mother, Suzette, I knew that I would never be alone again. In the weeks that followed our wedding, Claude became unbearable to live with. He began throwing wild tantrums without provocation. He would throw things and rant on for hours and hours. Once he even lit a room on fire! He was constantly threatening myself, and my new bride and finally, he attacked a young maidservant and nearly killed her. After that, I sent him away, and never saw him again. _

_In the next year, you were born, Suzette. You were our little angel and your mother wouldn't have a nurse for you. We spent the entire summer and autumn playing with you and adoring you. For once in my life I began to understand the happiness that my brother had left us for. I felt like two angels had lifted me to heaven, but it was short lived. During the winter, my beloved wife caught pneumonia and left the two of us here alone. . . _

The letter went on, but Suzette stopped there. She pulled from the envelope the remaining papers. Among them, the letter from Richard that had been mentioned in her father's note, some letters between her father and her mother, and the will. Suzette read aloud the part that described how her father's fortune should be divided. I stated that the sum should be distributed between his daughter, Suzette and the daughter of his older brother Richard in the event that she could be found. Nothing was to be given to Claude.

"You're a rich woman, my little Suzette!" said Erik and Suzette nodded. She wasn't thinking of money. Erik lifted up the letter from Richard to Suzette's father and glanced through it. Suddenly his heart seemed to freeze and Suzette was too lost in her thoughts to notice his trembling. She was thinking of the words in the will. She repeated them over in her head as they took on meaning. _"In the event that she could be found. . . in the event that she could be found. . .in the event that she could be found." _ Somewhere in this world she had a cousin. She had never in her life had any female relative that she could remember. The possibility was enchanting to her.

By the time Suzette could speak again, Erik had his sudden pain under control. She took his hand and entreating him with deep, blue eyes, she asked, "Will you help me to find my cousin?" He took a deep breath and struggled to sound cheerful as his heart was breaking. "Of course my dear little Suzette."


	13. The Ghost Again!

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Ghost Again**

One bright afternoon, a very curious person came into the dress shop in the village, though the shopkeeper couldn't exactly put his finger on why the man was so curious, except that he had an unfortunate appearance of one who was sickly and was rather sullen in manner. He approached the stranger cheerfully and asked him if there was anything that he could do for him. He glared at him disapprovingly. This man had the annoying trait common in all salesmen, to be both humble and arrogant at the same time. He stood before him now with a just-pleasant- enough smile on his face, waiting and willing to help.

The stranger removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and set it on the table before him. The shopkeeper glanced at it nervously and saw that it was an address.

"What have you been sending there?" The man was attempting to intimidate him and the shopkeeper didn't like it.

"I don't see how that is your business, Monsieur."

"I am not interested in what you see." he retorted, "I am interested in how the young vixen at this address has been getting her clothes."

"Well, Monsieur," the shopkeeper began, choosing his words with caution, "I have been sending things for a young girl to that house for years. They order her dresses and other things by correspondence."

"And did they give any reason for requesting this service." The shopkeeper crossed his arms to show the man what a bother he was being and said, "Monsieur, this is the only shop which sells dresses for young girls in this area and one of very few which sell dresses at all. It is not at all uncommon for women and girls to order their things by correspondence rather than go into Paris. It is less expensive and far more convenient."

"Then there is nothing unusual about the orders that come from that house?"

"What should be unusual?"

"Well," the man said mockingly, "I don't know. The postman that delivers there told me that no one lives there except for a ghost." At this, the shopkeeper began laughing hysterically.

"The ghost has been ordering dresses for a little girl as well?" The stranger seemed to choke.

"As well? What do you mean 'as well'?" The shopkeeper was slapping his knee and howling with laughter. The man wasn't sure what he was going to say but he was quite sure that he wouldn't like it at all. When he had finally calmed down some he began to recall the whole story.

"Yesterday, just after I had closed the shop for the night, locked the door, and begun cleaning up, the ghost came in to shop."

"The ghost came in to shop." He repeated in disbelief.

"Yes! He wanted to buy a blue dress."

"And you weren't concerned about having a ghost buying dresses at your store?"

"Concerned? _Concerned?_ I was terrified! But what could I do? Tell him that the store was closed and ask him to come back tomorrow?"

"How can a ghost purchase a dress?"

"He told me which one he wanted and asked me to wrap it up in a nice box and set it outside the door."

"And you did?"

" Of course I did! And you would have done it too!" The man put his hand to his forehead. "What did this ghost look like?" he asked the shopkeeper earnestly. The shopkeeper returned him a condescending look.

"You can't see a ghost!" The two men stared at each other for a long time. "_He's absolutely mad!"_ the disgruntled stranger thought to himself but to the shopkeeper he said,

" No, I suppose you can't see a ghost, can you?"

"Of course not. Are you quite satisfied now, Monsieur?" The stranger scowled.

"I am curious. What do _you_ think that ghost is going to do with a dress for a little girl?"

"No-no, Monsieur!" the salesman corrected him, "It was a blue gown, very elegant, for a lady."

"For a lady?" he asked, "Why would a ghost buy a lady's gown?" The shopkeeper shrugged and replied, "He said that he was taking his lady to Paris for a night at the opera." The man clutched his head and left the store in a fit and moaning, "A ghost! A ghost is taking her to the opera."

Sister Catherine-Marie, first noticed the man in the garden as she and some of her girls were picking lettuces for the noontime meal. He was standing half-hidden by the stone wall and staring through the iron gate. The sister followed his gaze, which seemed fixed on the many girls playing near the large apple tree which monopolized the playing yard. She had been employed by _La Maison Pour Les Enfants Egaree_ for over three years and had grown to love each of 'her girls', as she called them, as if she were their own mother. She would tolerate nothing that might threaten them. This dark figure crouched behind the leaves frightened her although she couldn't say quite why. It seemed a quite enough creature and posed no immediate danger from behind the locked gate, but the sight of him sent shivers down her spine so that she gathered up 'her girls' and led them into the school. After she was sure that each of her lambs had returned to the fold, she went to the window to have a peek at the place where they had left the man. She was relieved, at first glance, to see that there was no one creeping around the gate but her sense of security turned to horror when she saw that the man had somehow defeated the wall and the gate and was now headed to the door.

For a moment, the good sister was at a loss. To confront him would be nearly unthinkable. She ought to lock the door good and tight and ignore him until he went away. But how had he gotten inside the courtyard? This was an invader unmoved by walls. No, she was going to have to handle this herself. She gathered up her every bit of courage and went to meet the dark man, find out what he wanted, and hopefully suite him enough that he would leave.

He was waiting for her as she opened the door of the school.

"Good-day, sister." He said rather gruffly. He was quite tall and pale. He had the look of someone who had been sick all long time.

"May we help you, sir?" she asked, trying to sound cold and not terrified.

"I am here to inquire about one of your orphans."

"What about them?"

"I am looking for my young niece, who has run away. I believe that she may be among them."

"No sir, none of my girls are runaways. Their parents are dead or have brought them to us. All of them are accounted for."

"I am sure that she is here!" he snarled, "I would like to see for myself."

"Well you can't. You aren't welcome here." And with that, she began to shut the door, but the man through it open with a strength she wouldn't have imagined in him and rushed past her, into the main room. Once, sister Catherine-Marie had regained herself, she sped after him, screaming. The little girls stood trembling around the room as the man inspected them with cruel eyes. She could tell that he hadn't found what he was looking for.

"Are you quite satisfied?" she demanded. He glared at her and hissed, "I would be very quiet if I were you!" He stalked about the room turning this way and that. His eyes fell on a girl called Nicolette who was clutching a lovely little doll and trying desperately to be brave, despite her diminutive stature. He towered over her with his hands on his hips as he snarled at her.

"That is a nice doll you have there, little girl."

"T-Thank you. She c-can sing a s-song." Said the child timidly.

"How nice. I saw you playing with it yesterday, you and another, older girl. Now I see you, but where is your friend?"

"T-that was Suzette. She doesn't live here."

"Oh no?" he asked dangerously, "Than where does she live?" The little girl looked around in fear. No one was volunteering any information.

"I don't know. No one does."

"What! Oh we shall see." He snatched the doll away and held it out of the girl's reach. She started to cry.

"Give her back! Give her back! She's mine! Suzette gave her to me!" The man stopped cold and flung the doll across the room where it smashed into the wall and fell to the ground. Nicolette sobbed and moved to run after it.

"Take one step and you'll wish you'd never been born! Now, explain this all to me. How is it that Suzette comes to visit you, plays with you, and brings you pretty dolls that sing songs, and yet you don't know where she lives?"

"She doesn't tell us. We've asked her before but she keeps it secret. But she's our friend and she brings us lovely toys in a big bag!"

"And where does a ragged and unwanted brat get the means to buy other ragged, unwanted orphans toys which most parents can't afford for their own children? Unless she is stealing them?"

"She's not ragged!" piped one girl. "Yes she has lovely dresses." chimed another. "She doesn't steal!" "She's a very nice girl!" "And she brings dolls and music boxes for us-" "And soldiers that really march for the boys!" The room was in an uproar of girls defending the honor of their beloved Suzette. Sister Catherine-Marie looked on helpless.

"Silence!" the man screamed at them, "Where does she live! Who is hiding her! From whom is she getting all these dresses and toys?" There answer was unanimous.

"From the ghost of course!"

"The ghost?"

"She lives in his house." Nicolette told him as the others nodded in earnest. "He only talks to her and no one else has ever seen him! He takes care of her and makes the toys that she brings to us." At this the man erupted in a fit.

"You are all insane!" he screamed at them. "This entire town is insane!" And with that being said he stormed out of the school, slamming desks and chairs as he went.


	14. L'opera

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Opera**

Suzette was reading cozily by the fire the night that Erik brought home a rather large and fine box. Her eyes ran over the dazzling silver paper and ribbons. Erik knelt by her side and motioned for her to open it. She undid the package with great care, not wanting to rip the lovely paper. The box was opened and inside it there was a lovely gown, very elegant, and deep blue in color. Suzette gasped as she fingered the soft satin and the intrinsic beading.

"I'm supposed to wear this gown, Erik?"

"Well, of course! Who else do you think I bought it for? You are, after all, a real lady now. You ought to play the part." Her eyes were wild with excitement.

"And exactly what am I supposed to wear this dress for?"

"Saturday night. You and I will be going to Paris!"

"What for?"

"To see the opera!" At this, Suzette broke into a wide, childlike grin.

"You've never invited me to an opera before!" Erik took her hand elegantly, and kissed it.

"That's because you were too much of a garcon manqué and not a grand lady, ma chere mademoiselle!" She laughed and embraced him. She had a feeling that there would be more to this surprise later.  
On the day that she and Erik were to go to the opera, Suzette spent most of the afternoon with Madame Colette, who was nearly as excited as she was.

"Such a wonderful occasion!" she exclaimed as she pruned her roses. They were in the garden and Suzette was perched on a stone bench, hugging her knees, and reading a Paris newspaper article about the opera that Erik had invited her to. She was quite sure that Erik had more up his sleeve than he was letting on. She knew very well that Erik wasn't going out in public tonight for the first time in years just for his health, or even for hers. No, something very special was going to happen tonight and once she'd picked up the article, it didn't take her a moment to form a pretty good idea of what it was.

"Look here, Madame!" she said. "Guess who is singing the lead role in the opera tonight!"

"Isn't it that Viscountess? Christine De Chagny?"

"That's what this is all about!"

"What all what is about, Lapin?"

"That's why he's dragging himself outside and risking being seen. You know he never wants to go anywhere where anyone might see him. I was getting quite concerned about what he might be up to, but he just wants to see this Madame de Chagny! He's told me himself that she hasn't performed in Paris or anywhere close in years!"

"I guess that your Erik is a fan?"

"Oh, he adores her! He has probably read every word written about her in the reviews and the paper. I don't know where or how it started but one night I noticed how he had collected so many stories about her and pictures of her. I joked with him that he seemed to love Madame Christine more than myself but he didn't seem to hear me and he didn't answer. No, I believe that he couldn't answer. He was far away, in some world where some operatic angel sang and sang, unhindered and just for him." Suzette sighed to herself as she thought of Christine de Chagny, queen of the stage, dripping with beauty, grace, and charm.

"She must be gorgeous," she moaned sadly. Madame rose and took Suzette's hand in hers.

"You will be gorgeous tonight, Lapin. Come now. Lets get you ready for your first opera!"

Madame Colette spent the rest of the afternoon instructing Suzette on how to walk and how to act. She told her stories of her own nights at the opera when she was young. She helped her to dress, did her hair, sprayed her with perfume, and helped her to choose from her mother's jewelry. Suzette sighed as she lifted a lovely pair of earbobs. "Too bad I don't have my ears done. I'd love to wear these!" Madame glanced down from Suzette's golden curls which she was shaping into a heavenly twist and decorating with flowers.

"They are perfect with this dress," she said thoughtfully. Suzette held them to her ears, admiring them.

"How lovely they are. They shine like little stars!" She looked hopefully at Madame who simply shrugged and smiled back.

"Will it hurt very much?" Suzette asked her.

Later, Suzette found Erik still dressing in his room. He was distracted and didn't see her enter and it seemed to Suzette that he was mumbling something to himself beneath his breath.

"Are you near ready, my dear sir?" Erik turned about sharply and saw her. He was silent and still as she twirled around the room and into his embrace.

"How do I look, Erik?"

"Like an angel, my dear Suzette." He whispered as he took her hands in his, "No, like a grand lady. I'm quite proud!" His hands were shaking slightly as he lightly touched her new earrings.

"Do you like them?" she asked.

"They're fascinating!" he exclaimed, "Didn't they hurt very much?"

"Only a bit." she admitted.

"You didn't cry?"

"No, of course not!"

"Girls seem to me to be very brave." Erik told her fondly. She squeezed his hand and tried to be nonchalant. She had screamed like an ally cat. "But at any rate, they do make a tremendous effect." He bowed to her dramatically and laughed as if he had just insulted her.

"Well, I'm not the only one _effected_ around here, my good sir", she argued as she lifted the corner of the rather long and elegant cape he was wearing with her thumb and forefinger. "What in heaven's name is this supposed to be?"

"It's an opera cape, you silly little thing!"

"Why should anyone want to wear a thing like that?"

"Because it's so stylish, _ma petite._ Besides, I will have something to lay over you when you start to complain about being cold." As he spoke he searched his chest of drawers until he found a silk bag, from which he removed a mask the likes of which Suzette had never seen before. He turned form her slightly to remove his old mask and replace it with this new one. Suzette stared at him and tried to figure it out. As far as Suzette could recall, Erik had only wore two masks. Around the house, he wore the brown fabric mask, which hid the entire space from around his eyes down to just below his jawbone. On the rare occasions that he left the house, he wore a black satin mask, which was nicer and had a false nose. This chilling new mask covered his face entirely, ear-to-ear, hat brim to chin, and was white as snow. It took Suzette only a moment of study to decide that she hated it.

"You aren't really going to wear that, Erik?"

"Why not?" The sound of his voice from behind this lifeless thing made her want to shiver. Even his eyes had disappeared into darkness behind it. She had to think of a good excuse fast.

"I'm sure you can't even breathe."

"But I am aren't I?" he retorted.

"How will you see the opera?"

"I can see." Suzette was becoming desperate.

"I thought you didn't like people to look at you," she accused, "Don't you know that a half-blind man would notice that thing on a cloudy night from a block away and across the alley. It's like wearing the moon on your face."

"But no one will guess what is behind it."

"It's absolutely frightful, you look like some sort of ghoul!"

"Would you rather I went without any mask at all?" he retorted in a daring voice.

_Quite possibly, _Suzette told herself but she knew she had lost this one.

"Are you ready to go", she asked.

"Yes I am, Mademoiselle." Erik took her by the arm and together they strolled out into the street to meet their carriage. Suzette held tightly to him. She wanted to close her eyes, but she had to be content with staring straight ahead and telling herself that it was her own dear friend who was beside her, and not some other creature altogether.


	15. No Ghost Here!

**Chapter Fourteen**

**No Ghost Here!**

The man had brought tools with him to pry open a window, so he was surprised to find that the windows weren't locked. He lifted the sash easily and climbed through snickering to himself and leaving his tools on the ground outside. Maybe she wasn't as clever as she seemed.

Once he had gotten in and stood up he had to stop and blink. He had climbed from the outside of a house in a small town outside Paris into a deep jungle in the dead of night. He stood for a moment, staring at his surroundings. The trees seemed to go on forever into the darkness and he could hear the rain falling around him. Suddenly he heard the lion roaring behind him and he ran, panicked, toward a dim light shining from between the trees.

As soon as he passed beneath the first branches, the jungle disintegrated into an asymmetrical hallway that seemed to join five rooms and a staircase. Each of the five doors were made of the same wood, intrinsically carved with dancing elves and unicorns. He tried each of them and found them all to be locked. He turned back toward the room he had come from, but he couldn't distinguish which of the doors it was. At any rate, they were all locked now. It seemed that the house was herding him up the stairs. The man twisted and turned from the stairs to the direction he thought he had come from and tried to collect his bearings. When he had entered the hallway he had counted five doors. Five doors plus the one he used to escape the jungle. By all laws of nature there ought to be six doors now. He stood in the center of the hall and starting at the staircase, counted the doors. One, two, three, four, five. It occurred to him that a door had disappeared and this upset him so much that he hurried up the stairs before anymore of them vanished.

When he got to the hallway at the top of the stairs he shut his eyes and rushed franticly for the nearest door, crashing through before it could disappear on him. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was in a bedroom. He eyed the furniture suspiciously, as if it might jump up suddenly and grab him. A plain, small bed, a chest of drawers, an armoire, and a desk. He lifted his gaze and saw that someone had written a pattern of notes all around the wall of the room, a few inches from the ceiling. This disturbed him, but he ventured further into the room and toward the desk.

The moonlight shone through the window and he could read the papers on the desk. The first thing he saw was a news article, most likely from one of the 'ghost's magazines', about a singer who was performing that night in Paris. The article wasn't about that night's performance, but about one that had occurred several years earlier, during which the young diva had been abducted from the stage mid-performance when the entire theater was plunged into darkness. The article blamed the mysterious event on the Paris opera ghost. Needless to say, the girl had refused any and all invitations to return to the Paris opera house until that very night. He laughed out loud. Another ghost? Suzette must have gone to Paris to make friends with him too! The man dug further through the things on the desk until he found the letters from Suzette's father and uncle. He scanned the first and found nothing useful. He read the later and quickly turned back to the new article, and then back to the letter. He howled in anger and continued rereading the article and the letter, and then he scanned the first letter again and whirled around and out into the hallway.

He ran toward the stairs, but stopped cold before a floor length mirror which stood in the hallway and which he hadn't noticed before. He couldn't see his own reflection in the glass, but instead he seemed to see through it. He shuddered as he saw two yellow eyes appear in the darkness, at least a head lower than where his ought to have been. The eyes seemed to glare right through him. They froze him in place and burned him from the inside out. The stood shivering as he thought of the boy Benoit, who had left this place and returned to the world screaming about eyes in the darkness. The man drew a few deep breaths and began the shout.

"Suzette!" he screamed, " I know it's you! I know you're here!" As he spoke he confronted the mirror, drawing closer and closer.

"How stupid do you think I am? Do you think that you can fabricate a ghost to protect you? You'll see! I'm going to find you! I'm going to find her too! Do you hear?" He rushed the mirror with all his strength and it fell to the floor and shattered.

"Ha! There's no ghost here, Suzette! No! Just you and me and her! And I will get you both! Do you hear me! Your ghost can't protect you from me!" Here he stopped and listened. The house was empty and silent. He turned and left the house by the bedroom window.


	16. La Viscomtesse

**Chapter Fifteen**

**La Viscomtesse**

"How dark and lonesome it is," thought the Viscountess as she looked around her dressing room. She should have felt at home. She had played as a child in the corridors. She had left childhood behind within the same walls. In this immense kingdom, she had rediscovered the part of herself that she had lost when her papa had died.

"I should be glad to be home," she said aloud. But she knew she wasn't, for even though she had begged it not to, the fear had returned. Even with all the lovely memories there were, she could not forget the terror of her last few days in the Paris opera house. They had haunted her for years, and now she was there, living the nightmare over again.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted as her husband knocked on the door gently and entered. She rose and he embraced her warmly. She wished that he wouldn't let go. She wished that she didn't have to go out on the stage alone and invite all her worst fears. She wished that she could remain forever in those strong, safe arms where she was free and happy.

Suddenly, her young son came running into the dressing room and pulled on her skirt.

"Nicholas?"

"I want to hug too!" he said indignantly.

"Of course, my darling!" she answered and leaned over to lift him into their embrace. Suddenly, from some place in the corridor, or perhaps in an adjacent room, or the stairwell, came the mournful sound of a violin. The Viscountess went ridged with horror, then grabbed her child up suddenly and turned back to the safety of her husband's arms. He lifted her chin and saw tears on her cheeks.

"Christine!" he scolded, "Why are you frightened? It is only someone practicing their scales for the performance tonight. There is no need for tears." He dried her eyes and sat her down in a small chair. Nicholas left his mother's arms to explore the new room. He was a brave and curious child, who made it his own business to find out about everything around him. Nothing could be hidden away in cupboards or kept secret from him. He was plump and fair and when the Viscountess had company, all the ladies would smile, sigh, and confide in her that he was the most delightful and intelligent boy that they'd ever seen. Meanwhile, the comrades of the Viscount assured him that he would grow to be a fine, sharp young man. One might have be concerned that such a pampered and adored child would have become somewhat spoiled, and perhaps a few close friends had noted the couple's rather enthusiastic fondness for their only son, but everyone knew how lonely the Viscountess was while on tour and Nicholas was such a cordial little chap, that whatever little indulgences they paid him were easily forgiven.

Just as the little fellow had discovered a trunk of props and costume pieces, his father called him to go and find Maman a drink of some kind.

"All right, papa," he said and scurried off into the corridor.

"Come straight back, darling!" the mother called after him, "And don't speak to anyone you don't know!" The Viscount took her hand and shook his head sadly.

"I knew it was wrong to come here," he told her.

"I had to," she said simply.

"Please, tell me why?"

"I don't know why, Raoul. I just had to." He frowned in consternation.

"I don't understand."

"Maybe, I felt that if I came back to this place and sang, he would hear me. Maybe I had to come and sing for him once more." Raoul looked up alarmed.

"But you said that you were sure that he was gone."

"I am," she said through a fresh stream of tears, "If he were here I would know. But even so, I am afraid."

"Don't be frightened. If he is gone, then what is there to be afraid of?" Christine shook her head and looked about her, as if she was searching for the answer.

"The ghost?" she said finally.

"Oh, Christine!" he exclaimed, "I am here now. Even if he is still alive, even if he is still here, I won't let him take you again." She didn't seem to hear him.

"The funny thing is, I don't think that I would be as afraid if I knew that he was here. Now that I know that he isn't here anymore, I don't know what I'm afraid of." Raoul turned away sharply. "I hate him!" he spit out bitterly.

"Oh, Raoul. I know you do. But I do wish you wouldn't say so. He can't hurt us now."

"Good! Then there is nothing to be frightened of. He was the ghost and now the ghost is gone. You will go out and sing beautifully, just as you always do and tomorrow we will leave for Milan."

"London."

"London, or where ever else you want to go. Come now, stop crying and be my happy little Christine."

"I wish it were over now, or at least begun."

"It will be soon."

"I wonder what is keeping Nicholas away. You will watch him closely tonight, won't you?"

"I will watch you both closely. But there is no danger. I promise." Christine smiled.

"I believe you."

"Very well. You get ready for your performance and I will go and find our son. We will be watching you from our box."

As the Viscount left, Christine seemed to be much better. He was glad. He didn't want her to be frightened when there was nothing to be frightened of. Didn't she think that he could protect her? Hadn't he saved her when the monster stole her the first time? Weren't they sure that Erik was dead and no longer a threat to them? Suddenly, from the darkness behind him, he heard the cry of a violin and the Viscount put his hand to his coat pocket where he had hidden a loaded pistol. He would protect his family no matter what the cost.


	17. The Angel of Music

**Chapter Sixteen**

**The Angel of Music**

Suzette was trembling with excitement as they sat in their box. She had never seen anything so magnificent in her life as the Paris Opera House. From every corner, something wonderful caught her eye. The beautiful people dressed in gowns and suites, the lights peeking out from every nook and cranny, the smell of wine and cologne, and the sound of music and laughter echoing in every space, all of which made her quite dizzy.

Some of the patrons stared at them as they made their way to their seats and whispered to each other behind their crystal wine glasses. This sent shivers up her spine and Erik draped his cape over her protectively until they reached the stairs. He directed her along the crowded promenade and Suzette heard the whispers turn into a slight uproar as they disappeared into box five. From the box they could see the grand sight of the hall, the glorious chandelier, and the stage men preparing for the performance.

"Are these our seats, Erik?" she asked in wonder.

"Of course, my darling."

"Don't they generally sell the boxes out to principal patrons?" she asked with a hint of disbelief. She had gotten a feeling that he had obtained these seats by some unethical method.

"All except this one. It is mine." Suzette intended to challenge this when they heard the sound of quick paced shoes on the other side of the curtain and suddenly the head of a concierge peeked in at them with an expression of horrified disbelief.

"Aha!" Erik exclaimed, "Here is our concierge, and what is your name mademoiselle?"

"Geraldine," the poor girl whispered. She appeared to Suzette to be quite ill and near fainting.

"Well, Geraldine, please tell my young lady which box you have tonight." The concierge turned to Suzette as if she had only just noticed her sitting there.

"Box five, mademoiselle."

"And whose box is that?" She looked back to Erik, still stupefied.

"Yours?"

"Very good. Now say you give my young lady a program?" The wretch looked down at her right arm and was surprised to find a stack of programs within. She took one and handed it to Suzette, who thanked her gently. Then to both their surprise, the girls let out a muffled shriek, dropped the stack of programs, and flew from box five, never to been heard from that night or any night again at the Paris Opera.

Suzette's amazement was rejuvenated once the performance began. The beauty of so many voices singing at once enthralled her and nearly brought her to tears. Erik sat beside her, enjoying himself immensely. He swayed gently in time with the music and looked toward Suzette lovingly from time to time. Suzette was distracted from the performance as she watched him in his happiness. She wondered why he hadn't brought her here before.

Suddenly, her attention was drawn sharply back to the stage, for the entire house seemed to draw its breath as the Viscountess made her entrance. She was magical in her movement and her beauty. Suzette was astounded that one person could be so enchanting just by walking into view and casting a warm smile. Then she began to sing and the entire house exhaled in delight. They all felt the same thing that Suzette did, a warmth filling up the inside of her heart. Now she understood why Erik had been so anxious to see her, she had the holy, healing power of the angel of music nestled within her white little throat. The sound of her voice erased every drop of pain in the world and bathed it in love. Suzette listened to her longingly and she wondered how any single person could be more wonderful. When the aria ended and her voice stopped, everyone in the house was different. The opera went on and Suzette looked up at Erik, expecting to see him reacting, and saw that he was frozen. His foot had ceased tapping and his eyes were set on the lovely primadonna. He seemed to be in some sort of a trance. Suzette reached out instinctively to try and wake him, but she withdrew slowly. He was in a perfect world and she had no cause to disturb him before it was time to go home. She leant back in her seat and looked all about herself smiling.

"What fun!" she thought, "This is a perfect place. And just look at my Erik. I do believe that he is a little in love with her."


	18. Le Viscomte

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Le Viscomte**

Raoul de Chagney watched his beloved singing from box 3. The moment the first note crossed her lips he knew that Erik was there. She sensed him out there somewhere, crouching in the darkness, and she was singing just for him. The Viscount was filled with rage and fear and a minute before Christine left the stage he commanded his son to be still and not leave the box for any reason and then went backstage to console her.

When she saw Raoul she fell into his arms and clasped his hand in hers.

"What shall I do?" she asked him.

"Sing your very best, and don't worry. I'll be right here waiting with Nicholas when you get off the stage and we'll leave through the side door."

"I'm frightened."

"If he comes near you I'll kill him."

"Raoul?"

"I won't let him take you. You'll see. Everything is going to be fine."

"But, that's not what frightens me. I am sure that he means us no harm."

"Then what are you frightened of, Christine?" She raised her hands in desperation.

"I'm not sure. Do you promise to be here waiting for me?"

"I promise." Christine looked nervously about her.

"Then go and keep close watch of Nicholas." She was doing her best to be brave and Raoul was reluctant to leave her. She smiled at him radiantly and squeezed his hand.

"You said yourself that there was nothing to worry about. Be here the moment I come off stage. I won't even take a final bow." Raoul nodded and went back to the box.

To his horror, Nicholas was nowhere to be found. The Viscount was about cry out for help when he heard a soft giggle near the floor and suddenly Nicholas climbed out from behind the curtain.

"What were you doing back there?" the father demanded.

"I was looking for the ghost," the child told him.

"What ghost?"

"The opera ghost. I was talking to him but I couldn't find him anywhere."

"Don't speak to strangers, Nicholas."

"Not even to ghosts, Papa?"

"Especially not ghosts."


	19. The duel

**Chapter Eighteen**

**A Duel**

Suzette and Erik had made their way from the boxes to the stage, where most of the patrons and performers were celebrating the success of the show. They stood in the shadows and watched the people in glorious costume laughing, drinking, flirting, and dancing. Suzette was overwhelmed. She glanced up at Erik, who appeared to be searching the crowd for someone. 'The Viscountess', she thought to herself.

"Are you going to find her and shake her little hand?" she asked him. She regretted it instantly for she felt his sadness, even through that lifeless mask. She took up his hand, which was trembling, and squeezed it tight. He squeezed hers back as if to say, 'apology accepted'.

Suddenly, they were both aware of a pair of eyes gazing toward them. Suzette looked up and saw Thomas standing along the back wall of the stage with a group of friends. Aurelie was among them and everyone was listening to her tell a story with great fascination. But Thomas wasn't paying attention. He was staring a hole straight through Suzette's face. Erik observed this and felt numb all over. He began to tremble even more violently and Suzette looked at him with questioning eyes. He took a deep breath and leaned forward so that she alone could hear his whisper.

"Well, my dear girl? Aren't you going over to shake his hand?" Suzette became quite pink and she turned her face to the floor. He lifted her chin and whispered, "I will meet you outside." Even before she had realized it, she had made her way alone and stood by Thomas' side, listening to Aurelie's story.

Erik left the opera house through a side door that led down four wooden steps and onto a small, dark lane. He chose this way because hardly anyone used it and there was little chance of being seen. He turned toward the road and saw that there were many people still there, talking and waiting for their carriages. He would have to go around another way. He turned to his left and there she was. She was there in lane with her young son, Nicolas, and keeping away from the crowd. Erik was stunned and before he could even think of what he was doing, he approached her.

As soon as Christine saw him, she screamed and backed away, clutching her little boy. Erik stopped cold. She had never screamed like that at him. Not even when she had first removed his mask so many years ago, had she issued a cry like that. Erik didn't know what to do. He wanted to take her in his embrace and tell her that he would never let anything harm her. He wanted to dry her tears and tell her how much he still loved her, but he couldn't because it was he that terrified her. It was he that was making her cry and tremble and scream out for her husband. Erik was sure that he would die of sorrow.

Suddenly, he felt something strike his head and he was on the ground. Everything went black for a moment and when he came back, he realized that Raoul de Chagney was on him and striking him in his back and head, amid the shrieks of Christine and Suzette, who must have just come outside. He sprang up suddenly and Raoul was thrown off. As Erik remained on his hands and knees and struggled to regain his vision, he heard a loud click to his left, and dove just in time to get a ball in his shoulder and not his head. The Viscount cocked his pistol again, but Christine got between them and stopped him from firing it.

When Erik's eyes returned to him, he found Suzette kneeling beside him with tears running down her face and covering his wound with the opera cape, which she had removed from him.

"At least this thing is good for something," she told him, "I think you'll be all right, if you just hold still while I try and stop the bleeding."

"What a horrible episode!" he moaned, "Now you know why I don't go out anymore." Suzette laughed and sobbed at the same time.

Christine wasn't far from fainting and Raoul held her close, comforting her.

"You shot him!" she whispered with wide eyes, "You shot Erik!"

"Do forgive me, Christine. I could never lose you again." She nodded and fell to weeping.

"Take Nicholas to the carriage.", she said to her husband. He began to protest, but gathered his terror-struck son in his arms and carried him away with out saying a word. Christine mustered up some courage and walked toward her old friend, who Suzette was trying to help to his feet without much success. Finally, he was up, although most of his weight was on Suzette. Suzette looked to Christine.

"Can you help me get him to the carriage?" she asked timidly. Christine looked at Erik who was dirty, bleeding, and had lost his mask when Raoul threw him to the ground. She didn't see how she could refuse. The three of them made their way slowly toward the street that had already been deserted by the opera patrons, leaving the Viscount bewildered and alone.

Just as they neared the corner, a shadow came to life and pulled Christine away, brandishing a knife. Erik fell back on Suzette.

"Good evening, Madame la Viscountess!" the man snarled. He raised his knife and Erik pounced on him, trying to wrench the knife from the man's hand. The man released Christine, who stumbled to keep on her feet and ran to her husband, and turned on Erik, slamming him into the stone wall of the opera house.

"Run Suzette!" he screamed, desperately. Suzette remained frozen.

"Run!" he repeated and she obeyed. The man didn't chase her. He was staring in horror and amazement at the creature crouched before him.

"What kind of freak are you?" he demanded.

"The last one you're ever going to see!" Erik hissed. He was weak but his voice echoed, as strong as ever, through the streets. The man wasn't convinced.

"Who are you?" he shouted. Erik considered the question for a moment.

"Who am I?! I am Erik!" He paused as his only real name echoed down the street. _Erik! Erik! Erik! _He continued.

"I am the living dead boy, the Angel of Music, the trapdoor lover, the phantom of the opera, and the master of the house!"

"What house?"

"You know, the house? The one you've been creeping around all week? The one that is haunted? It's mine! I am the ghost!" There was a long silence. The man dropped the knife and began to laugh hysterically.

"It's his house! He's the ghost! Oh the fools, the fools!"

"It is rather amusing isn't it?" said Erik smugly.

"Oh yes!" the man agreed, "Very amusing indeed But the fun has only just begun. I'll get your little friends later. Right now I am going to enjoy skinning you alive and dragging your body behind my carriage."

"Not yet. I've introduced myself. But you haven't told me your name. You are Claude aren't you? Suzette's uncle? I do hope so. I am getting tired of killing all the assassins that you hire to chase after her." The man laughed.

"And such a clever little phantom! Won't this be fun? You'll be a real ghost soon!" He reached down and lifted him by his wounded shoulder. Erik twisted in pain and his eyes burned. With his good arm free he slashed at the man's throat with the knife. Then, they both collapsed.

The Viscount and Viscountess arose trembling and came to Erik's side.

"Oh, my poor, unhappy friend." Christine moaned. She kissed his forehead and he awoke to her.

"Am I dead?" he whispered.

"No, dear." said Christine.

"What about him?" he asked.

"I think so." She answered. Erik sighed. There always seemed to be more and more blood on his hands. Finally it was over. Suzette was safe, and so was Christine.

Suddenly, they heard approaching shouts and footsteps. Someone was coming! Erik started to rise in a panic, but Christine held him.

"Stay still, you're hurt!"

"No! I must hide! If they find me I'm done for. They'll lock me up like an animal again and-

"Shhh! I won't let them."

"I can't move!" he moaned, "Please Christine, I'd rather your little chap shot me again! I'd rather die right now in your arms than locked up in a cage and before their cruel stares!"

"Shhh! You aren't going to die tonight. We'll take you to our apartment and you'll be safe there with us." Christine motioned for Raoul to help her and together they lifted him easily into the carriage. She sat beside him and stroked his back. She could tell that he was fighting to stay awake.

"Go to sleep, dear," she whispered to him, "You are safe now." And he did.


	20. Erik and Christine

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Erik and Christine**

Erik awoke the next afternoon to a sea of yellow roses and the last hours of sunlight streaming merrily through the window. He sat up and observed his new surroundings. He was in a spotless and very comfortable bedroom with a cheery fire going in the fireplace. He was wearing a much-too-large, white nightgown and dressing-robe and he lay in a soft, comfortable little bed, with a warm spread bedecked with yellow roses. Someone small had thoughtfully laid a rather fine stuffed bear in the bed with him to keep him company. Someone bigger had washed and mended his clothes and had laid them on a chair for him, neatly folded.

Having thoroughly investigated the room, he emerged slowly and stiffly from the bed and began dressing. His whole body ached as if someone had tossed him down several flights of stairs. Suddenly, he realized that the mask was missing. He spun around in horror and began searching the room. It wasn't there! He was trapped in an unknown room where anyone in the world might come right in and he had no way to hide himself. Erik wrung his hands desperately. It was as if his worst nightmare had come to life. He sat down on the bed, hugging his knees to himself and tried to come up with a plan.

He was on the verge of tears when he heard a small sound coming from the door and saw two small eyes peering at him through the crack. Erik cried out and dove beneath the covers. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps outside the door and the little boy saying, "He was up, Maman, but he saw me and he hid under the covers!" The footsteps entered the room and Erik felt two hands pressed firmly against his back.

"Erik? Won't you come out?" Christine asked gently.

"Where is my mask?" Erik moaned, trying hard not to cry.

"Don't worry about that, dear. We know you. . ."

"Please, where is it?" he interrupted.

"You lost it last night, during the fight. Remember?" It was the Viscount's voice that said this and Erik recalled the awful episode of the previous night and cried out, "Suzette, where is Suzette?"

"Who?" the couple asked.

"My little girl, the one who was with me? Did she get away?"

"Yes," Christine informed him, "She ran away safely." Erik began to sob wildly.

"Erik, what is it?" she asked softly.

"I have to get to her! I have to, but I can't! How can I go out like this?"

"Oh, don't worry, Erik." Christine said compassionately, "Raoul will go and bring her here for you. You're still hurt and you need your rest anyway. Where is she? Where would she go?" Erik liked the sound of this. He hoped that the Viscount would agree quickly and would take the little master with him but Erik could easily tell, even from beneath the yellow roses that Raoul loathed this idea.

"I don't think that is a good idea, my love." he told his wife, "Who knows where this girl might have gone to?"

"She must have gone to Madame Colette." Erik said and he told them the town and the address.

"I don't want to leave you and Nicholas with him." Raoul complained under his breath.

"We can't leave a young girl out there alone, either. And Erik is fretting for her so-

"But Christine, don't you think-" Christine held her hands to his lips to hush him.

"It will be all right." she promised him and begged him with her sweet, blue eyes.

"Very well then," he said, "I will return very soon." He gave the lump in the bed a stern glare and left. Erik hoped that he would take the child as well, but he didn't and the three of them were left alone in the room.

"There, you see Erik? I told you that it would be all right. Won't you come out now?"

"No." he responded plainly.

"Don't hide," Nicholas begged, "Come out and talk with us."

"You mustn't ask me to. You would cry and run away."

"I'm not afraid," piped the little man and he jumped up onto the bed and began swatting and pulling at Erik's feet. Erik squirmed and kicked but Nicholas held tight until Erik lost a shoe. The child bounced up and down with laughter and immediately went for the other shoe. Erik was familiar with this game as he had played a more difficult version with Suzette in which she kicked and screamed and he tried to put her shoes on. Nicholas got a hold of the other foot and squealed triumphantly as he got the other shoe and sat trying to put the pair on over his own. Christine laughed as she tried to get the blanket away from him. Erik pulled it tighter around himself and begged for them to stop.

"Are you coming out from there?" Christine demanded, "or do we have to go for the stockings as well?" Erik didn't find it so humorous.

"Let me alone!" he wailed at them, "Would you make my life unbearable?" He wondered why this woman and her boy were so interested in humiliating him. Christine lifted up a corner of the blanket and Nicholas shouted, "A cave!" and charged in to explore. Erik screamed in consternation and attempted to cover his face with his hands.

"Don't!" Nicholas coaxed him. He sat beside him, under the blanket, and pulled at his hands. Erik was crying now and he reluctantly let the boy pull them away so that he could see.

"I told you that I wasn't afraid, Monsieur." He said and Erik felt a little better. Nicholas took Erik's bony arm in his small, pink hands and pulled him gently back into the daylight.

"We've come out from the cave, Maman!" he said proudly and Christine smiled.

"I am so glad. I was missing you." She sat on the bed beside them and took Erik's other hand.

The three of them sat there for quite some time, watching the evening fall. Nicholas instigated most of the conversation. He seemed to have an endless supply of questions for his new friend.

"What's your name?"

"Erik."

"Is that all?"

"That's all."

"But what's you family's name?"

"I don't have a family."

"How come? Did they die?"

"No, they didn't want me."

"Why not? Did you get in trouble a lot?" Erik turned away. He couldn't answer and silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I get in trouble sometimes," Nicholas admitted, "But not too much." Nicholas grew thoughtful, most likely counting over all of his little transgressions. Erik wondered if the questions had ended, but Nicholas soon started in again.

"How old are you?"

"I don't know."

"When is your birthday?"

"I've never had one before." Nicholas stared with wide eyes. To him, not having a birthday was the saddest fate imaginable.

"Do you have a job?"

"Not really."

"What does 'not really' mean? Don't you know how to do anything?"

"I can do lots of things. Probably anything you can name." Nicholas grinned at the challenge.

"Can you walk on stilts for four and a half minutes?"

"Yes."

"Can you build a fort in a tree?"

"Yes."

"Can you do two backward flips in a row?"

"Yes." Nicholas furrowed his little brow and tried to think of something that no one could do.

"Can you make things disappear?"

"Yes."

"No you can't!" he cried.

"Yes, I can. I can make anything disappear. I'm very good at that trick. I used to make tools and costumes disappear at the opera. Once I disappeared an entire dinner for twenty people. I can make myself disappear and once I even made your mother disappear." Nicholas turned to his mother, astonished.

"Is that true, Maman? Did Monsieur Erik really make you disappear?"

"Yes he did, Nicki." His eyes grew wide.

"Were you scared?"

"Yes. But he brought me back. Now, it's time for you to go to bed, my little man."

"But, where did you go, Maman?"

"Shhhh. I'll tell you about it another time. Off to bed, now." Nicholas sighed and kissed her goodnight. He then smiled up at Erik and said, "Good night, Monsieur. I'm glad that you woke up."

"I'll glad too, and glad to have met you." Nicholas gathered up his stuffed bear and went to the door. He started to leave but then turned around with one more question.

"Do you have any children?" He pondered this for a moment and said, "Yes, I have a daughter."

"What's her name?"

"Suzette."

"Is she nice?"

"She's very nice."

"Is she pretty?"

"Very."

"Goodnight, Monsieur."

"Goodnight, Nicholas." Nicholas left for his own little bed and the room was silent. Erik took a deep breath and said, "I'd never though of Suzette as my daughter before." He looked up at Christine, "But she is isn't she? Not really of course, but I've looked after her so long, and loved her so much, that there must be something of me inside her."

"How did you come by her?" Christine asked him gently.

"We were sharing a hiding place."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"She was all alone, with no family or friends, and there was a price on her head. She was so small, Christine. And there was no one to protect her. So, I carried her off to the house on the lake, and hid her there with me. And, after a night, I began to love her. And, we've been together ever since."

"You left the opera cellar." she stated.

"We were found out. It was no longer safe for us there. Besides, it was time we had a real home."

"I returned to find you as you asked, but you weren't there. I thought you had died."

"Oh, Christine, I would have died if it weren't for Suzette. I was dying, you see, I was dying of love. That night, when you kissed me and cried for me, was my first as a man. Before that I was a monster without a heart. But that night, my heart came alive and beat only for you. When you left it had nothing to go on beating for. But I wasn't unhappy, Christine, for the pain in my heart was so sweet and I was finally human enough that I could feel it. Just think of it, my Christine. Who could have ever imagined that I, who had lived a life devoid of kindness and compassion, would be capable of dying for love? But I was. And I would have, but I was sent an angel of mercy, and her name is Suzette. But if it weren't for you, my sweet, gentle angel of music, I would have never been able to love her." Christine was stunned. She didn't know what to say.

"Are you happy now, Erik?" she asked him.

"Yes, Christine. I'm happier than I ever dreamed I could be." She smiled and embraced him.

"I'm so glad," she told him, "I've had such horrible nightmares! I would wake up weeping and praying that God would not allow you to suffer. Oh! How I grieved for my poor angel of music!" Erik's heart was soaring.

"Christine?" he whispered, "Are you still afraid of me?" She didn't answer, only held him tighter.

"Christine, last night, when you saw me outside the opera, you were afraid. You screamed at me and drew back as if you thought I would hurt you. It all but cleaved my heart in two. I would give anything if you would not be afraid of me anymore." It was remarkable to Christine that his requests were so simple and ought to be easily granted and yet it was so often that she couldn't.

"It isn't you that I fear. It's not the part that is my loving friend and teacher.

It's the other thing that comes out. The dark, hateful thing, that frightens me. It frightens me because when it comes, you disappear. When I'm speaking to it, you don't hear me. That thing doesn't love me as you do. I'm afraid that it will swallow you up and you will never be yourself again. And it comes so suddenly, and without warning, sometimes I can't tell if it is you or not." Christine saw that he understood. He put out his hand and she took it trembling.

"That thing is dead, Christine. You sent it far away long ago, it hasn't been here since, and it is never coming back. Please, don't be afraid of me anymore." He was pleading with her and she took him in her embrace.

"Please, forgive me Christine," he whispered over and over, "I don't want you to hate me anymore." She leaned down and kissed him tenderly, promising her forgiveness. Erik believed her and was delighted. He asked her eagerly about her career, the places she'd performed, and the cities she'd seen. She answered them excitedly and blushed as he admired her.

"My little songbird has flown to nearly every corner of the earth, and grown into an great diva along the way."

"You've changed as well, Erik." He seemed surprised.

"How have I changed?" She was embarrassed for having mentioned it, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Well, it seems to me that you have grown larger in some way since I last saw you. And your hands no longer chill me when I touch you nor your eyes burn me when I look into them. Although your manner is very much the same, you seem to be much . . .

She stopped as if she couldn't find the word.

"Older?" Erik suggested, and she nodded.

"Well, I suppose even monsters have to grow up someday, my love." he said and laughed to himself.

"I suppose so," she agreed, "At any rate, she has done you a great deal of good, your Suzette."

"She is the joy of my life."

"Tell me Erik, have you been teaching her to sing?" He laughed at this and said, "You silly thing! Are you worried about a rival? Don't be. You see, Suzette's voice is not at all operatic, though she is not without her gifts. I teach her the organ and the violin. She is quite accomplished at both, but she excels with her violin. She will a masterful player one day, you see if she doesn't!" He stopped stared into space and Christine could tell that he was listening to Suzette's music from far away.

"Does she perform often?" she asked, hoping to keep him in her world.

"Only for me." he said darkly. Christine's head jerked up suddenly and the room became quite cold.

"She plays only for you?" Erik turned away as if he had been injured. She pulled him back and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Erik, does she go to school?"

"I teach her," he whispered. There was a pain in his chest and he was having trouble breathing.

"Doesn't she have any friends or playmates?"

"Yes, I send her over to Madame Colette, and there are always other children there. That bought me some more time with her. It will kill me to part with her, you know."

"But the rest of her days and nights, you keep her locked in with you?" She was accusing him openly now.

"Yes. I am a cruel and selfish father."

"How much longer do you mean to keep her?" she demanded of him. The pain in his chest grew greater and his head began spinning. This was the question that had been haunting him since the day when Suzette had opened the treasure chest and asked him to help her find her cousin. But he was in too much pain to even think of it now…

"Not so much longer," he moaned between gasps of breath, "It won't be much longer at all. Oh, my precious child! I can I live without you?"

"Erik, you must release her! Now!"

"I can't," he wept, "Not now, not yet!"

"You must! You had no right to take her in the first place!"

"But…Christine, she is all the happiness I've ever had…I just want to keep her with me forever!"

"And she will grow to hate you for it, if she doesn't already!" Erik was doubled over in pain. It was Christine speaking, but he heard the Persian's words again, "_She doesn't love you, monster! You carried her off against her will!_"

"You simply can't keep a young girl trapped like an animal for your own comfort and amusement!"

"_What do you want with a girl like her? You can't possibly love her!"_

Erik's mind was spinning wildly. He couldn't breath and he couldn't think. "No right to take her?" he repeated, "No right to peace, no right to joy, no right to any shred of humanity! Oh God! Why was I ever born?" He had collapsed into a weeping, suffering mass on the floor and Christine tried to get him to lay flat so he could breath easier. When she touched him, he leapt from the bed and whirled around the room like a madman.

"But my Suzette is not an animal! No! And I DO love her! I will release her now! I have to… even if…even if I am to suffer death from it!"

"You won't suffer, Erik," she said as she attempted to guide him back to the bed, "You meant her no harm. I promise you that it is God's love that awaits you. I promise you it will all be all right. " Erik lay down in the bed. Christine stroked him and kissed him until he shut his eyes. Just when she thought he had gone to sleep he spoke again.

"Christine, will you take her?"

"Don't you think she would be happier in a school?"

"She needs you, Christine. You are her family."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"You are cousins, my love. Your father and her father were brothers. Suzette showed me a letter from her father, which described how his brother had run away to play the violin and taken a Swedish name. She also had a letter from your father, which he signed 'Richard Daae'. It's true, Christine. Please, take your cousin and love her. I don't want her to have to go to strangers at some school that don't love her as I do."

"I promise, she'll be welcome to stay with us." He lay back finally with relief and closed his eyes. Suzette would be all right now. She had good family who would protect her and love her and a small fortune that would easily sustain her. The hardest thing would come next. He rested on the bed for at least an hour, with the night sounds coming in through the window and Christine rubbing his back and humming to him soothingly. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the carriage outside. He rose reluctantly and he and Christine went out to meet them.


	21. Where is Suzette!

**Chapter Twenty**

**Where is Suzette?**

The Viscount wrung his hands nervously as the coach bounced over the country road. He hated leaving his beloveds alone with the monster. He wished the horses would go faster, so that he could find this little wench and return her to him with great haste.

"Please, Dear Lord!" he whispered over and over, "Keep them safe until I get there and have mercy on me, for if he has laid a hand on either of them, I'll tear him to pieces with my bare hands!" Monsieur le Viscount bounced in the carriage for nearly two hours before they reached the town.

"This waiting must be what hell is like," he said to himself as the coachman searched for the right road. When they finally arrived before the home of Madame Colette, he flew from the carriage and up the path. As he went he saw a bit of movement at the window. He banged on the door, and waited the merciless minutes until a kindly and stern old lady opened the door for him.

"Where is Suzette?" he asked wearily and without any formalities. The woman's face was as white as a ghost's.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur. I'm the only one here tonight." She was lying and he knew it.

"I beg your pardon, Madame, but I saw someone at the window." Her eyes were wide and but her voice never quavered.

"Perhaps you saw the neighbor's cat. I am watching him tonight and he likes to sit at the window and watch the squirrels."

"I would like to see for myself." He said firmly. She decided to take the gamble.

"Very well then, if it will please you." She stepped aside and he entered the living room calling out, "Suzette? Suzette, are you here?" There was no answer and the Viscount turned toward Madame Colette in a state of desperation.

"Please, help me. It is of the utmost importance that I return home as quickly as possible, but I can't leave without Suzette."

"Why do you need her? Just leave her alone."

"I can't! Erik has sent me to find her and bring her to him!" The woman's mouth fell open and she drew a breath sharply.

"You've actually talked to Erik?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes and I have to get his little girl to him now!"

"Did you see him? Did you actually see the ghost?"

"Yes I've seen him, Madame. As we speak, he is in my apartment. But he is no ghost, Madame! He is a madman and a monster! He is a trickster and a killer, quite alive and quite dangerous and he is now alone with my wife and child. That is why I must get home as quickly as I can." At this moment, a young girl came hurdling toward him, brandishing a lamp nearly too large for her to swing.

"How dare you!" she was shrieking at him, "How dare you say such cruel things about my Erik! You are the monster! You are the killer! I saw you last night! You shot him and tried to kill him!" She attempted to hit him with the lamp, but he pried it away from her and held her down. She was crying now and trying desperately to strike him with her small fists. "Where is he?" she demanded, "What have you done to my friend?"

"Be still, and I will take you to him. You needn't be afraid, young lady. I won't hurt you, and I won't hurt him unless he threatens my family. He is with my wife, Christine and he sent me to fetch you."

"Why should he send you if he is really safe? Why didn't he come for me himself?"

"He couldn't go out in the daylight, because he lost his mask last night, in the fight." She stared suspiciously at the Viscount. She couldn't be sure.

"Do you promise you will take me to him? Do you promise that we are safe and that you'll let me see him?"

"I swear it," he said solemnly. Suzette looked to Madame Colette for help.

"I don't trust him, Lapin. I don't like you going off with him."

"I don't have a choice though, do I? If Erik is there and he needs me?" The two friends embraced and Madame whispered to her, "Please, be careful." She nodded gravely and said to the Viscount, "All right, I will come."

"Good, then let's hurry."

"Wait! I must go to the house first." And she pushed past him and out the door. She was very fast and the Viscount had trouble keeping up. She went around the back, pushing her way through a hidden opening in the thick brush, and entered the house by slipping through a large window, which she pushed open easily. The Viscount found this a curious way to enter a house since the window had been right along side a door, but he considered that since she lived there, she knew what she was doing. He went to the sill and looked around the room. It was a funny looking space. He couldn't decide what its purpose might be. It was about six or seven feet wide and very long. The floor was wood and the walls were white and unfurnished. The only feature was a small door, which was also painted white and almost invisible. The girl opened this door and pulled out a cloak, which she put on, a mask, which she pocketed, and to his amazement, a rather frightening knife, which she sheathed and hid within her cloak. She glared at him and said, "Don't think that because I'm a girl, I don't know how to the use that. We've been attacked before." He wasn't in any position to doubt her. He moved from the window and she stepped out.

"What would have happened if you had used the door?" he asked.

"What door? Did you see a door in there?" She was right. There had been no door in that room except for the little cloak closet.

"Well if that outside door doesn't lead anywhere, why do you have it?"

"Who said it doesn't?" she responded mischievously, "If you're so curious, why don't you open it and find out?" He gave up. There was not enough time to think about the mysterious doors that led nowhere or anywhere. They hurried across the dewy grass and she glared at him with distrust as the climbed in and started off.

She sat as far away from him as she could get and pulled herself into a tight ball. She watched his every move with hate, but said nothing for nearly half an hour. By that time the silence had become maddening to the Viscount and he asked her, "How did you get home from Paris, Suzette?"

"None of your business." she snapped.

"How long have you been living there with him."

"For many years."

"Don't you think that your family is worried about you?" Suzette found his tone condescending and she didn't like it one bit.

"I have no family."

"Oh you poor thing! Then there was no one to miss you when he took you?" Suzette blinked. She wasn't sure that she understood his question.

"No, I was alone."

"How awful!" he exclaimed, "You must have been so frightened." Suzette had been frightened, very frightened. She hadn't anywhere to go and there were men out for her life, until Erik had saved her. But that wasn't what the Viscount meant and she knew it. He was making her quite angry and she was about to tell him so when he continued,

"He is an awful creature. He seems to have no conscience. To take a small girl and lock her away, for his own pleasure! He is a monster! How I hate him! Do you hate him for it?" She stared at him. She was surprised that his words didn't make her to burst with anger but this time, they only saddened her. She shook her head and sighed. He didn't understand.

"No, I don't hate him. How could I?" Now it was the Viscount who seemed sad.

"And neither could Christine." His tirade became pensive silence as he thought of Christine and Erik.

"But why should you hate him?" she interrupted timidly.

"Why? Because, he is my rival. Don't you see? He is my rival for Christine. For that reason alone, we would be bitter and jealous enemies, even if he didn't have the excuse of being a trickster, an abductor, and a murderer!"

"Stop it!" the child cried, "My Erik is none of those things! But what do you mean that he is your rival for Christine?" She recalled Erik's eyes as he watched the primadonna floating across the stage. 'He's in love,' she'd thought, and perhaps she hadn't been too far off. "Was Erik courting Christine?" At this, the Viscount burst with cruel laughter and exclaimed.

"Well I suppose he was in his own way! I hated him the moment I first learned of him. I begged Christine to let us leave Paris right away and get away from him, but she wouldn't leave. She was determined to sing a good-bye for him that night before we claimed our freedom. I was there that night, in the audience, ready to gather her up after her final bow, and whisk her away to some place safe from and the angels and phantoms which haunted her. But Erik had plans of his own. He abducted her from the stage, right in the middle of her aria! He dragged her down into the cellars of the opera house and tied her up down there. When I went to rescue her, he threw me into his chamber of horrors. He demanded that she agree to marry him and threatened to blow up the entire opera house and us with it if she refused." Suzette was astounded. She couldn't bring herself to believe it.

"I doubt that he would really do that," she said at last.

"Nonsense. He would have killed us all, Christine, myself, himself, and half of Paris. Suzette, he has no qualms about killing. In fact, I am astounded that they haven't found your body laying in a ditch somewhere." She was horrified.

"Well he didn't kill you," she retorted indignantly.

"No, he didn't."

"And he didn't marry her."

"No, not really, but he was content with her promise for a short time while she and I were in agony."

"Then she did hate him?"

"No," he said with a touch of pain in his voice, "She doesn't hate him and she never did. She loves him, you see. She wouldn't admit it to me, or to him, or even to herself, but she does all the same. It's a dark, tragic kind of love, which I will never understand. But she knew as well as I, and he knew as well as she, that she could never be his wife, and survive. But he didn't care. He would have her either way." Suzette thought this over. She believed the Viscount's story now. She loathed the words that he used to describe it but she knew that the essence of what he said was truth. But it was missing something important. Suzette realized what the Viscount hadn't said and she asked him, "How did you get away?" The Viscount just shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it.

"That is the most insane part of the whole terrifying event. He had us! We were helplessly at his mercy. We were moments away from being blown into pieces, but somehow Christine mustered up some courage, and agreed to become his wife if he would only set me free. The monster was not expecting this. I believe that he had fully intended to kill us all that night. But he agreed to spare my life and that of another man, if she would agree to be his wife. But then…and who can say why… but just when he was offered everything he asked for and more, he stopped and let us go. Why, I'll never understand." The Viscount stopped and looked up at Suzette and was immensely shocked to see her leaning back in her seat with her arms folded and a warm smile on her face. Suzette was smiling because she understood what the Viscount had apparently not noticed or simply couldn't bring himself to believe. She knew why Christine couldn't leave him that night. She knew why she couldn't hate him for taking her against her will, and she knew why Erik had allowed them to leave unharmed. M. De Chagney didn't know the secret but Erik knew, Christine knew, and now so did Suzette. She liked having this great secret but there was still something that she didn't understand.

"Why did Erik keep this from me? Why didn't he tell me about Christine?" It was such a lovely story and although he rarely spoke of his past, it surprised her that he had not told her of these events. The Viscount looked away and shrugged his shoulders; "Perhaps he didn't think that you would forgive him, if you knew." Suzette considered this for a moment. It was as good an theory as any.

"Well I do," she confided in the Viscount and he replied, "Yes, Well I guess you always will." And they were silent for the rest of the journey.


	22. We must say goodbye

**Chapter Twenty-one**

**We Must Say Good-bye**

Even before the carriage had stopped, Suzette had sprung to her feet, ready to leap from the door. The Viscount was relieved to see his wife, alive and well, waiting for them at the door. The monster was nowhere to be seen and Raoul suspected that he was lurking somewhere inside. Christine cast her a glittery smile and attempted to greet her but Suzette would have none of it.

"Erik!" she cried as she pushed her way into the apartment. Christine looked to her husband with sad eyes and he held her protectively as they followed the young girl inside.

Suzette had found Erik and was fussing over him with abandon.

"Are you all right, dear. Have they hurt you? I was afraid that I would never see you again!" Erik had fallen to his knees and was weeping at her feet.

"Erik?" she cried, "Are you in pain?"

"Yes. . ." he moaned as he covered his face with his hands. She knelt beside his and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're crying! Oh what is it, dear?"

"It's so dark and lonely. . ."

"Then I will take you home, now."

"No…Forgive me, Suzette…I should have told you before."

"Told me what?"

"I just didn't want to say good-bye to you, my little angel. I knew that when I told you, you were as good as gone. But I must tell you now and we must say good-bye."

"Why must we say good-bye, Erik?" she asked as he fought to get to his feet, "Please tell me, what has happened."

"You will stay here, Suzette. You will stay with Christine and her husband from now on."

"There, there," she said soothingly, "I have brought you your mask and now we shall both go home."

"No!" he bellowed. Suzette stared at him, wide-eyed. He had never shouted at her that way before. He held out his hand sternly and she handed him the mask, which he put on.

"You don't understand," he said to her in a dangerously angry voice, "Your cousin, the one you are looking for, is there." He pointed at Christine and Suzette's eyes went even wider. Erik continued, "She will love you and teach you how to be a lady. You will have friends and family and grow to be happy. You don't need me anymore."

"But Erik…"

"Enough! This is what is best. I didn't want it to end, but it has to. I can't keep you away from the world any longer. Your life is beginning now, and mine is ending. Now, this very moment, we must say good-bye." Suzette went toward his to catch him in her embrace, but he pulled away quickly and ran through the door. She followed him, crying hysterically, but by the time she got outside, he had already disappeared into the darkness. She nearly ran off as well, but the Viscount caught her and carried her gently inside while she kicked and screamed for her friend to come back.

They held her down on a little sofa and Christine did her best to calm her.

"I am not staying here!" she told them through tears, "I have to find him. Didn't you hear what he said? He said that my life was beginning and his was ending. What did he mean, cousin? Where is he going and why can't I go with him?"

"Hush," she whispered, "It will be alright."

"I have to find him," she persisted. Christine embraced her and touched her cheek softly.

"Don't worry. We will."

"But how? I don't know where he's gone…"

"I do," Christine insisted, "I know where he is and once you are calm, we will go and bring him back." Suzette looked to her with trusting eyes and said, "Very well, I am calm now. Take me to him."


	23. In the Torture Chamber

**Chapter Twenty-two**

**The Torture Chamber**

Suzette and Christine watched as Raoul fingered the edges of the mirror.

"Perhaps it isn't there anymore?" Christine suggested. Raoul looked up and shrugged.

"Perhaps not."

"Please keep trying," Suzette begged, "I must get in there!"

"Don't worry, dear," Christine said assuring, "you will."

When Christine had suggested that Erik might have hidden himself away once more in the house on the dark lake, Suzette had urged them to go to the hidden doorway in the courtyard. To her dismay, when they arrived they found the opening sealed, just as she and Erik had left it years ago.

"He must have found another place to hide," she had told them sadly.

"No." Christine had insisted, "He's here. There is another way in." Suzette had known that the labyrinth was vast and included many miles of tunnel, but she was surprised to learn that they led into the Paris Opera House. She was even more surprised to find that the black lake was really the bottom most cellars of the opera house, which had been flooded by an underground stream as the building was being constructed.

Suddenly, there was a click as Raoul had found the catch and next the creaking sound of the coil unwinding. Moments later, the secret door swung open and the three of them entered. Raoul inserted a heavy book in the doorway, as it is never wise to lock ones own self in one of Erik's passageways.

They made their way down the dark, wet road that led to Erik's house. They passed odd shapes in the dark and heard eerie sounds. The path would change directions suddenly and they would often fumble down steep inversions only to crash into a wall at the bottom. The walls were black and the lantern was of no use to tell what was a black wall or a black opening. Large gusts of stale air blew on them at intervals. At one point of the exhibition, the passageway began to grow smaller. They came to a dead end.

"How do we get through?" Christine asked.

"We must have missed a turn somewhere," said Raoul. The party backed up a few paces only to discover another dead end. Christine was on the verge of panic when a large gust of wind blew against their legs from the direction that they had just come. A passage had opened! Suzette found that a small hole had appeared in the wall that had previously been a dead end. She ducked and tried to step in, but the floor had vanished. She got down on her knees and reached with her hand but found nothing. There was no telling how long a fall it was.

"Now what?" Raoul asked her. Suzette dangled her legs over the side and pushed off. Christine cried out for her to stop, thinking that she would surely fall to her death. In fact, Suzette fell only about two meters and landed gracefully on her feet.

"It's just little drop!" she called to the others.

"The passage has closed up again!" she heard Christine shout. Suzette now thought to herself that the floor must have been moving on a pivot. She took a few paces forward and came across another dead end. Suddenly, the first passage opened and Christine and Raoul came running down the corridor and toward Suzette. As they came, the floor inverted and they were, all three, thrown into yet another passage.

Suzette began to wonder if they were now lost forever when, suddenly, Christine let out a cry and Suzette saw what seemed to be creatures of fire, snarling at her.

"It's only the furnaces." Raoul whispered, "This is the right way." And so they continued on. Only just after they had put the fire demons safely behind them, Suzette heard a strange sound. A soft pattering sound, like the sound of rain, and coming closer and closer to them. Suddenly, all three were jumping up and down and shrieking. The floor had become a waving sea of small yellow eyes. The three tried desperately to kick away the horrid creatures that scurried over their legs.

"Run!" cried Raoul, "Or we shall be eaten alive!" Christine and Suzette ran a few steps, but suddenly a low and black figure emerged from the shadows and in a hoarse, old voice said, "Be still." The figure went past them and the rats all followed as if he were the pied piper. They trembled as they watched him disappear with the sea of rats.

"The rat catcher." Raoul said in amazement. Christine moaned in horror. Suzette hoped they would find that lake soon. She wanted to dive in and get the rat touch off of her legs.

"Is it too much further?" she asked Raoul. Raoul turned to her. He was all but gasping for breath.

"Why don't we just go back?" he cried, "It will be a miracle if we get to the lake alive and then he'll only kill us all!" He was met with two sad gazes. Raoul sighed and turned away. Suzette was furious.

"You can go if you want. I don't care if it takes me a hundred years! I will not leave him in this dark, hateful place alone!" Christine took his hand.

"Come now, let's hurry!" He nodded and they continued on toward the lake. After what seemed like hours to Suzette, the dark corridor was filled with the blue reflection of the black, ink-like water. The boat was sitting peacefully on the shore. Either it had returned there on its own accord, or Erik had another way into his lair. Suzette ran to the boat and started to push it into the water.

"Hold it!" cried Raoul bewildered, "What do you think you're doing?"

"The house is on the other side of the lake, right?"

"You can't just row right up to it! We have to think of a way to surprise him."

"I don't want to surprise him," cried Suzette, "I want to hold him and kiss him and take him home right now!"

"Raoul is right, dear." Christine told her gently, "That water is not safe to cross with out Erik guiding you himself."

"I am going," she said determinedly, "I am going right now. Will you come or not?" Christine glanced out at the dark, still water. Who knew what was out there? Then she looked back at Suzette's pleading eyes and she sighed. She stepped gingerly into the boat. Raoul stared at these two women. They were both mad, he decided, and it was all the monster's fault. He too, sighed and got in; quite sure that he would never see the daylight again.

Raoul started to offer to row the boat, but it was unnecessary. The boat started out toward the phantom's house on it's own. Raoul's mind raced. What could he do to protect them from the phantom? If he crept upon them in the darkness of his own lair, they wouldn't have a prayer. The lake was much larger than it seemed. It came up to a black wall and seemed to end there, but the little boat found a passageway and they came into an even larger section. Suzette looked up and saw no ceiling above her. It seemed to go on forever as a starless night sky. The house was nowhere to be seen. Suzette recalled that she had seen stars above the lake when Erik had brought her there so long ago. She hoped that they weren't floating away from the house perhaps to some dark place where even Erik didn't go. The boat went on and suddenly, the house appeared to them, as if by magic. Raoul saw that Erik had no intention of sneaking up on them; he was waiting for them at the bank with his arms crossed and his eyes burning.

He said nothing as they pulled the boat ashore. Suzette saw that he was again wearing the frightful, deathly still, white mask. She leaped out and ran toward him as if to fall into his arms, but he caught her and pushed her away.

"Erik, please stop," she pleaded tearfully, "What have I done? Why are you angry with me?" He said nothing and looked away. Suzette tried again.

"Come on, now. It's me. Suzette. Come on, take my hand and let's go home." He turned to her sharply and said in a low, dark voice, "What do you mean, dear child? This is my home. This is where I belong." Suzette was crestfallen. The phantom then turned to Christine and said, "You are, as always, welcome to stay here, though I would advise against it. If you stay in this darkness long enough you'll find that there is no returning to the light. At least not for more than a spell." Suzette reached out to take him again and he pushed her away.

"You had better go too, my dear." he said coldly, "I have had my moment of peace, and you have a whole life ahead of you. Besides, you wouldn't want to upset the phantom, now would you? You see, when he is in a rage not even he can control himself."

"Erik, you are not a phantom, nor a ghost, nor a monster, nor anything else save a man and my friend and I will not leave you here."

"Very well, stay then, if it pleases you." He turned from them and went inside the house. Suzette quickly followed and the Viscount and Viscountess came behind. They found him sitting on the floor of the drawing room, apparently engrossed in a book. Suzette approached him again and knelt beside him.

"What are you reading?" she asked timidly. He ignored her and turned away.

"Won't you at least talk to me?" she sobbed, "What on earth have I done to deserve this?" She once again attempted to embrace him, but he leapt to his feet, dropping her in an ungraceful heap on the floor. He slammed the book on the table and uttered a terrifying howl, which must have been heard in every corner of the opera house above.

"Talk to me!" Suzette cried sorrowfully, "Please Erik, aren't I your friend? Haven't I been by your side for nearly nine years now? I don't understand! How can you shut yourself away from me, who has been like your own daughter? Why have you become this new creature, who is as emotionless as that hateful mask you are wearing?" He seemed to change for a brief moment. He turned to her and said gently, "What do you wish to talk about, Suzette?"

"Going home right now!" she said.

"No." he answered, turning away again.

"Why you have shut yourself up down here?" He shook his head no. Suzette was lost. She looked to Christine and Raoul for help. Christine looked back with helplessness and compassion. Raoul held her to him tightly and had his face buried in her hair. Suddenly Suzette got another idea.

"Monsieur le Viscount told me before that you had a torture chamber in here. But I don't remember you ever showing me that."

"You wish to see the torture chamber?" Erik asked sarcastically and began to laugh, "Well it's all around you. Look at it! I built it myself, with my own hands. Would you all like a tour, my dears? This is the drawing room. I decorated it myself. Here I sat alone for years and years, composing my _Don Juan Triumphant._ As you remember, it is usually adorned with flowers but I am just moving back in and haven't been to the market yet.That door leads to my little bedroom. I sleep in a coffin because I am a corpse. That door over there goes into a second room where I kept you while you where here and where I kept my dear Christine. Out by the lake, there is a nice place to eat alone. Now, I suppose you wish to know how the tortures work. After all, that is the fun in it.

Well you see, when you first begin your sentence, you don't even notice the pain. You believe that you own the place, but it really owns you. You live here alone, bereaved of light, bereaved of love. Years pass and you begin to feel it. The tortures burn you up from the inside and begin to feast on your soul. You become consumed by hatred for those who curse you and jealousy for those who do not suffer your fate. But you still have some hope and you begin to plan your escape. You open doors and search around until you find the way out, but just when you can feel the light of day on your outstretched arms, you fall back into the darkness. Time goes on and you try your escape again and again, but each time you fail and each time you lose a little more hope and a little more of your humanity. Now I suppose you are wondering if there is really any way to escape at all? You really ought to ask Joseph Buquet, who found the only way out long before I did, when he came into the torture chamber by accident while I was away. There is only one way out of my torture chamber, you know, and it has nothing to do with a boat or a trap door. It happens when all of your soul has been destroyed by hatred and suffering. Then you are not even a shadow of humanity and you are dead inside and out. You grow cold and the your suffering ends." Erik paused here and when he continued his voice was soft and gentle.

"Now you see, my dear child, why it is better that you leave now and go back to the world and have all the happiness that my fate has deprived me of. Christine is your cousin and she will love you. She'll be your friend and teach you how to live. You can be married some day and have children. You can have anything that your heart desires. That is my wish for you because I still love you as best I can. So, please, go and leave me to my sorrows."

And with that, he left the three of them stunned, and went into the Louis-Philippe room, where all three of them had rested at different terms, and closed the door softly behind him.


	24. Rescued

At this point, Suzette turned to the Viscountess with anxious eyes.

"What will I do now?" she whispered.

"Well," she answered softly, "Perhaps it is best that you come home with us. We'd be glad to have you, dear. You may travel around the world with me, if you like. Or, if you prefer, we can find a nice college for young ladies where you can meet other girls and make friends. Would you like that?" Suzette turned sorrowfully toward the door through which Erik had disappeared. Christine put her cool hand on her cheek and looked her in the eyes.

"You have to grow up some day, Suzette. You aren't meant to spend your whole life hidden in darkness. Don't you think you could be happy with us?" At this, Suzette became furious.

"You don't understand! When my father died, I was completely alone. I had no one in the world. You can't understand for a minute, what that means and how much I need him. He was there for me when no one else would have given two cents for my life." Christine shook her head.

"I do understand, Suzette. He found me in just the same way. I was an orphan, like you. My love for music died along with my father and the conservatory allowed me to stay and study, simply because there was no place else that I belonged. I had no future, Suzette. And there was no one to help me to make one. But you see my dear, Erik is an artist and an artist takes things and makes them beautiful. That is what he did to me, and that is what he's done to you. We both owe him a great debt, my little _cousine._ And it is a cruel thing that no matter how much we want to, we can never repay it to him. Though he made us to see the beauty in ourselves, nothing we do will make him able to see the beauty in himself. But because he made us, we belong to his heart. And because he loves us, he has freed us both from our dept, so we can live our lives and be happy. You see, Suzette, you are free now, and it's time you took your place in the world."

Suzette collapsed into a chair, shaking her head and sobbing, "Oh, my poor friend." The gentle Viscount knelt beside her and said, "There is nothing more that you can do for him, Suzette. If you stay here any longer you'll go mad. Let him alone now, as he asked you to. He knows how much you love him, Suzette, and he wants what is best for you. Come home with us and be happy. It will be all right. God has made a place for both of you." Suzette's eyes filled anew with tears and she embraced him tenderly.

"If you want me to, I will carry you," he whispered in her ear.

"No." she said sadly. "I can do it, but I have to say good-bye."

"He said good-bye to you, Suzette. This will only make it harder."

"I have to tell him that I love him, and kiss him good-bye." Raoul released her reluctantly and she made her way to the door and opened it. When she saw inside she let out a terrified cry and ran into the room. Christine and Raoul ran in behind her and saw that Erik had collapsed onto the floor beside the bed. Suzette had her arms around him now, trying to calm him, but he was thrashing about madly and seemed to be unconscious of any of them. They gathered him up and set him on the bed. Suzette bundled him in the blankets tightly and his thrashing dimmed to trembling as he mumbled almost incoherently.

"Suzette, please stay and sing me a song."

"He means you." Suzette informed Christine, "He doesn't like my voice. He once tried to give me lessons but we nearly killed each other. That's why he taught me the organ and the violin. But your voice makes him so happy. Won't you sing him a song?" Christine thought for a moment and said, "I know!" She disappeared into the drawing room and returned shortly with a rather large manuscript. Suzette recognized Erik's script.

"It's his." Christine said, "_Don Juan Triumphant_." She opened the opera and after a brief search, found what she was looking for and began to sing. Suzette was very easily moved by music, but she had never in her life felt anything as strong as she did when Christine sang from Erik's _Don Juan Triumphant_. It was a terrifying mixture of hatred, jealousy, lust, and sorrow. Suzette found herself captivated by the horror of it and longing to hear more, though it was not at all pleasant.

Near the height of the song, Erik resumed his thrashing and cried out, "It burns! It burns!"

"Stop, it's hurting him!" Suzette cried and the song ended. Suzette rocked him gently and whispered to him but Erik continued to talk in his sleep. "Maman, sing that song to me again." he whispered.

"No, Erik, it's me, Suzette."

"Oh, my dear Suzette, my mother once sang me the sweetest song. . .when I was little. . .father beat me. . Oh Suzette, he hurt me so much!. . .I didn't do anything, but he beat me anyway. . .I couldn't walk. . .couldn't even move. . .mother had to lift me into my bed. . do you know, Suzette. . do you know that I nearly died that night? . . .and mother put me into my little bed. . .no more that a box. . . on the cold floor. . .You see, Suzette. . .she couldn't bare to kiss me. . .not me, her wretched corpse of a baby. . .no. . .of course she couldn't kiss me or hold me. . .or touch me. . .or even look at me. . .or love me. I begged her to kiss me once, but she wouldn't. . .she screamed and threw me my mask. . .but she could sing to me. . .you see, Suzette. . .she sang to me. . .while I lay, dying in my crib. . .and that's how she told me that she loved me. . even though I would never be a man. . .even though I would never be human. . .she didn't even give me a name, Suzette. . .but she sang for me that night. . .and I survived until morning."

Suzette had stopped crying. She held Erik tightly in her embrace and kissed him. She smiled at him as she sang the lullaby. She didn't recall the words, but she hummed him the tune of the little song that he had sung for her that first night, so long ago. Erik seemed completely at peace with this little woman's golden curls cascading over his shoulder as she rocked him and sang to him in a small, but sweet sounding voice. When the song was finished, Erik pulled away from her shoulder and sat up straight. Suzette reached up slowly and carefully removed the hateful ghost mask. This time he didn't protest. Instead he sighed deeply and whispered to her, "I'm sorry, Suzette."

"Why, Erik?"

"Because I yelled at you. And I frightened you and made you to cry. And I ran away from you because I thought that you didn't really love me." Erik began to cry again, "And I stole you away from the world and made you my captive-

"Oh no, Erik!" she interrupted him and threw her arms around him.

"Do you forgive me, Suzette?" he asked her.

"Of course I do. I love you!" He squeezed her tightly to him.

"Then let's go home, now." he whispered.

"All right." she answered. And they did.


	25. How Beautiful the Day Is!

**Chapter Twenty-four**

**How Beautiful the Day Is!**

Erik awoke to the sound of his bedroom door opening and Suzette's bare feet padding on the floor as she came to his side.

"Where are your shoes, young lady?" he demanded and she started and cried out with delight.

"Your awake!" she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck in jubilation. He embraced her and they cried a little.

"Yes, I'm here, my little angel. You saved me and brought me home from the darkness. And Oh! How beautiful the day is!"

"You were asleep for so long, I was afraid that you had left me!" she scolded in a pouting voice. He took her by the shoulder and said sincerely, "I'm sorry for frightening you, my dear little girl. I was having such a lovely dream that I didn't want to wake up. What is the hour?"

"It's just before seven."

"Splendid! I have a whole day. Let's have some breakfast. You get it started and I'll get dressed."

"Are you sure that you're up to it?"

"Hurry up now," he said to her warmly and she left to start the tea.

A few minutes later, he came downstairs and insisted that they eat in the garden and out in the sunshine. Suzette was amazed. Erik hardly ever went outside unless he needed to, and never during the daylight. He wasn't even wearing his mask!

They sat in blissful silence for at least an hour. Erik enjoyed the sun and the wind on his skin and the sounds and aromas of the garden. He lay back in his seat and shut his eyes. Just when Suzette was beginning to wonder if he'd fallen asleep again he said to her with conviction, "I shall spend the day working on my opera."

"But Erik," she protested, "You will overdo yourself. You just got up from two days of feverish unconsciousness. Give yourself a few more days before you start to work or you'll kill yourself."

"There, there," he assured her lovingly, "I promise that I will be finished by supper time. Then I will come down and we will spend the rest of the evening together."

Suzette's eyes lit up and she shouted, "Oh! I'd nearly forgotten. My cousin, the Viscountess, is coming to visit us this evening, after suppertime. She called yesterday to see how we were getting along and I told her that you were still asleep. She promised that she would come back and visit tonight because she will be leaving Paris again tomorrow morning. She'll be so pleased to see you up, Erik." Erik clasped his hands together and laughed, a sound like a choir of angels.

"How perfect! She is coming to say good-bye! And you shall leave with her tonight." Suzette shook her head and said, "Not while you're so ill."

"Hush, now," he whispered, "I must start immediately if I am to finish by suppertime." With this, he rose, entered the house, and disappeared into the daisy room.

Around noon, Suzette cracked the door hesitantly and peeked in. She hadn't heard a note of song from the organ or the pianoforte all morning, so she had prepared him some tea as an excuse to enter the room and see what he was up to. Her eyes shot around the room until they located Erik, crouched in the corner and writing earnestly in his manuscript. She smiled with relief as she realized that he didn't need the organ; the music was already in his head. She began to back away from the door but Erik heard her and looked up suddenly.

"Come in, Suzette," he called to her and she entered sheepishly.

"I brought you some tea."

"Thank you."

"Are you doing well?"

"Quite well. I'll be finished just in time."

"And you aren't too tired?"

"Don't worry about me, my dear little girl. Run along now and thank you for the tea. Why don't you start packing your things and I'll see you at suppertime."

"I'm not leaving, Erik." He shook his head adoringly and said, "Very well Mademoiselle. Have it your way."

"I will," she informed him and left him to his work.

She walked absent-mindedly through the rooms of the house. She didn't understand why Erik thought that she should leave but she knew that she had no intention of doing so right then. She straightened the things in the house and re-straightened them. She found a book she had been wanting to read and sat by the clock in the storybook room. She couldn't pay attention and soon put it down. She went and found Othello and set him on her lap while she petted him. He was content for a few moments, but then heard something rustle and darted off toward the jungle room. She sat in the kitchen for the longest time, knocking her legs against the chair legs, but then decided that they would just have to have an early supper tonight, and fetched a pan and a jar of soup that Madame Colette had brought over when Suzette had told her that Erik wasn't feeling well.

Suzette heard Erik moving upstairs as she was pouring the soup for their supper. She listened with a concerned ear as he staggered from the daisy room to his bedroom. She came in behind him with the soup and saw him collapse into his bed. Once he was situated, she handed him a bowl as she teased him in a scolding voice, "Now you've done it. You've worn yourself out, dear sir, and you'll sleep right through the Viscountess' visit!" He stroked her hand warmly and said, "Yes, I'm exhausted but I finally finished it. My opera is done now and I can rest, but not just yet. It's not time."

"Well have some soup and take a nap before she comes and you'll feel better."

"I won't sleep just yet, Suzette. First, I must see Christine and I have something still to say to you."

"It can wait dear, you're exhausted." She pushed him back into his pillow and tried to get him to lie down.

"I am very tired, but a few more hours will make sleep seem all the more sweeter. Right now, I want to be with you." She relented and sat down on the bed beside him while they finished their soup. When they were through, she set the bowls aside and sat back down beside him.

"You want to know, don't you?" he asked suddenly. She stared at him and nodded. "You aren't too mad at me, are you? That I didn't tell you before? It wasn't that I didn't trust you, Suzette. It was only that I wanted to forget it. I was so happy with you in my life. With your love, I had become a human being. I somehow convinced myself that I could forget my past; the shadow that I used to be would disappear from the light that you shed on my life. But it didn't, and you saw it erupt from my soul with your own eyes." He paused here and she took his hand. She wanted him to tell her.

"It is a painful story, Suzette," he warned her.

"I will bear it with you." He held her tightly to him and began.


	26. Erik's Confession

**Chapter Twenty-five**

**Erik's Confession**

"I don't remember where I was born, only that my parents spoke German to me. They hated me. My mother would hardly ever touch me and I had to learn quickly to care for myself. My father beat me without reason and I was forbidden from speaking in his presence. I spent the days alone, locked in my room, which was a small space under the staircase that had no light or window. They never kissed or embraced me. They never even gave me a name.

I probably had the mask since I was born. I hated it. It scratched my face and made it difficult for me to breathe and see but I learned very quickly what would happen if I ever removed it while my parents were watching. I didn't understand why I had to wear it, and I didn't understand why they despised me when I so craved their love.

One night I woke suddenly from a nightmare. I was terrified and wanted my mother. I sat there in the darkness for so long trembling with fear for I couldn't find my mask in the dark and I was forbidden from entering my parent's bedroom. Finally, in my terror, I left the mask behind and creeped as silently as I could toward where I knew my mother was sleeping. I knew that she wouldn't hold me or comfort me and that if I were caught I would be given the beating of my life, but if I could just see her face for a moment, I could go back to bed. I pushed the door open and looked at my parents in their bed. They were there and I felt safe from all the monsters that had been after me in my dreams. I should have turned around and gone back to my little room, but being a foolish and curious child I began to explore the room which I had never seen before, illuminated for me by the moonlight which shown through the window. I examined my father's clothes and shoes. I crawled under the bed to see what I could find. I saw a book, which was a thing completely new to me, and I marveled at all the funny black marks. I pulled myself up onto a chair so that I could see the things on a little table. There were little containers of white powder and bottles that smelt lovely. Then I noticed a large, heavy object sitting on the table. It drew my attention because it shone so nicely in the moonlight. I lifted it up so that I could see what it was." Erik stopped and burst into tears. Suzette held him tighter and wept with him. He caught his breath and continued.

"I should never have gone in there! Oh, why did I have to go in there? Why did I have to see? When I looked into the mirror and saw the monster glaring back at me I screamed and fell off the chair. My parents awoke and caught me in their room but I was still lying on the floor screaming with horror and I wasn't worried about them. I still didn't understand. I knew that I'd seen something terrifying, but I still didn't realize that it was my own face. My father must have seen the mirror and realized the cause of my tears for he grabbed me by the arm and held my head, forcing me to look in the mirror. 'There! There you are!' he howled at me in a rage, 'you wanted to see, didn't you? It's you, you little demon!' I screamed and screamed and begged for him to let me go but he held my horrible refection before me and wouldn't allow me to move. I shut my eyes and he began beating me with the mirror and kicking me. It seemed to be ages before he stopped. He didn't have to beat me. I had been more than punished. I knew then why my parents hated me, why I was never allowed outside, and why I had to wear the mask. I knew that I had always been a monster and always would be and nothing could save me from it. I promised myself that I would never remove the mask again. I remember my mother saying that I would die from the beating and perhaps it was better that way.

As it was, I didn't die, and the next day my parents dressed me and gave me a warm breakfast. My mother wrapped me in a blanket and the three of us started out towards the edge of town. She had to carry me, as I still couldn't walk from the beating I had received the night before. It would be years before I would ever really walk again. There was a gypsy carnival there and they brought me into a small tent where a man gave my father some money. My mother set me on a table and they left without saying good-bye or even looking back.

The carnival man unwrapped the blanket. He took my mask and I screamed and begged for him to give it back, but the man spoke a strange tongue and didn't understand and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. Next he took off the rest of my clothes and put me in a cage. He and another man lifted the cage and carried me through the carnival to another tent. I cried out indignantly for them to give me back my clothes and let me out, but they just laughed and so did the crowd of people at the carnival. They followed us into the tent where the two men set me down. They paid the men to look at my hideous face and broken body. I cried and asked the people to help me and make the men let me go home, but they only laughed and threw things at me. The torture lasted two years. During that time, I became little more than an animal, crawling around the cage and living only for the scraps of food that the people threw to me.

Then, one day my luck changed. The carnival went broke, and I was sold to a circus freak show. The man from the circus came and put me in some new clothes. He asked me questions in German and I was delighted to hear my own language again after two years. I asked him if I could have my mask back and he agreed, but explained that I would not be allowed to wear it during the show. He carried me to a carriage and we traveled to another city where I was introduced to the rest of the circus. He brought me to a tent where he introduced me to a fortuneteller. 'Take care of this kid,' he commanded, 'He'll be our best act once he's on his feet!' The fortuneteller made me a little bed and fed me more food than I'd seen in a month. She asked me my name and I told her sadly that I had none. She smiled me and went to her trunk, from which she retrieved a large glass ball. She waved her hands over it and did a lot of moaning. Then she held up the ball and seemed to peer right through it.

'It says that your name is Erik.'

'Are you sure?' I asked suspiciously. She held the ball out and said, 'See for yourself.' I held the ball up and peered into it, trying to see my name. I squeezed my eyes tight and I thought I saw something, but since I couldn't read, I was obliged to trust the gypsy woman.

'Oh yes, I am defiantly Erik.'

Within two weeks I had learned to walk again and the circus manager decided that I was ready to perform. He had drawn up a large poster of me with my terrifying face. 'SEE ERIK, THE LIVING-DEAD BOY!' he read aloud to me. I became frightened that I would be put in a cage again, but the circus manager had something else in mind. I was to sit in a chair on a stage while the people came into the tent. When the manager gave a signal, I was to remove my mask and all the people would scream in horror. I hated it. After each show I would cry to the manager to let me stop but he would just pat my head and tell me to go and play until the next show started. When I was finished, I was allowed to walk around the tents and see the different acts. The people were watching the magicians, the stuntmen, the escape artists, and the ventriloquists for amusement, but I was watching and learning. On my own I practiced each trick until I had it perfected. I had a plan; if I could learn to do an act like these other performers, perhaps the manager wouldn't force me to take off my mask in the freak tent anymore.

One day, I came across a man who was calling the people to go inside a large box shaped structure with walls made of black-painted wood. I approached the man timidly and asked what was inside. 'Well if it isn't the living-dead boy?' he responded cruelly, but he invited me to go through the black curtain and see for myself. I soon discovered it to be a house of illusions, with tricks of the eye and mind all along a dark corridor. The people pushed past me after they had shrieked with delight at each new deception, but I stayed and studied each one until I discovered how it was done. As I continued on, the corridor became lined with mirrors. I hurried on, wanting to get past my own reflection but I soon discovered another mirror before me, and then behind me, and then to either side. They were above and below me. I spun around, terrified, running through the maze of mirrors. I cried out and a hundred thousand living-dead boys cried back at me. Finally I emerged back into the light, gasping for breath. The man at the entrance laughed at me and asked me how I liked it. It was the most horrible thing I'd ever seen in my life, and I went back to see it at least a hundred times.

After weeks of practicing, I finally showed the manager all the new tricks that I'd learned and asked him if I could do them instead of being in the freak show. The manager was delighted and gave me an act to do in the center ring, where I didn't have to take off my mask. The act was a hit and the manager was very happy with me. He told me one night that the head of the guard for the Persian king had seen me perform and had offered him an enormous amount of money to let him take me to Persia to perform for the sultan.

My joy was short-lived however, for the other performers realized that I had copied from their acts and became jealous. One night, they took me from my bed and beat me badly. They demanded that I return to the sideshow with the other freaks and threatened me with death should I ever perform in the center ring again. Frightened for my life, I packed a few things and ran away that very night. I found the Persian daroga and told him that I would go to Persia. He looked me over and stared at my mask.

'Do you even wear it when you're not performing?' he asked me.

'I wear it always and I won't take it off. So, don't ask me.' I replied. He looked at me suspiciously and thoughtfully and said, 'All right then, you will do.'

The next day, we began our voyage to a place that I'd never even heard of before. When we had been on a train for a sufficient time and I had received quite enough questioning looks for my taste, I asked him if we would be arriving in Persia soon. He laughed and told me that it would be weeks before we were in Persia. He explained that we would leave the train in France, where we would stay while he finished some business of his. Then we would take a ship to the East. Even then, we would have days of travel and many stops before we reached the Persian capital, where the sultan lived.

'What is a ship?' I asked him, and he laughed again.

'A ship, Erik, is a thing that carries you across the sea.'

'But what is the sea, Daroga?'

'The sea is the sea, Erik, and when we get there you will know for yourself.' He chuckled for nearly an hour at the masked little urchin that didn't know what the sea was.

When we arrived in France, the Daroga introduced me to his servant, Darius. He explained to me that Darius lived in France and took care of the house that he had there. I wanted to ask him about his lovely gold jewelry but I soon found out that he was only allowed to speak when the Daroga asked him a question and even then he only said, 'Yes, Master.' The Daroga's house was very nice and filled with interesting things from Persia. When the Daroga left to take care of things, he invited me to join him, but I was still afraid of being seen and preferred to stay inside and explore.

I found more books and examined their pictures and letters. I understood that each different symbol made a sound, although I still couldn't match which ones were which. One thing that caught my attention in the books was the pattern of symbols that appeared on the corner of each page. It was a very simple sequence of signs and it was the same in each book. Once the sequence was complete, a second set of signs appeared and went through the same sequence. I soon realized that these were numbers, and I began thinking about them all the time. I counted them forward and backward and by twos and tens. It helped me to pass the time while we waited for the ship to come and take us to Persia.

Finally the day came and the Daroga and I went to board the ship. I marveled at the way the ship was made so that the wind pushed it across the water. I soon became afraid because I saw the large men who worked on the ship beating boys my age and younger with thick leather whips. I began to cry and asked the Daroga if they would beat me as well. The Daroga assured me that they wouldn't, but I was anxious to find our quarters anyway. The Daroga had been correct; I soon discovered what the sea was. Its stench burned my eyes and the endless and unmerciful rolling about made me sick the entire time. The Daroga left me alone in the room all day and I was glad, because I didn't want him looking at me. At night, he returned and would attempt to teach me to speak some Persian. I repeated the strange words as easily as I heard them and before the boat docked, I could carry a conversation in Persian without much trouble. When we finally reached the other side, I was so thankful I cried.

The East was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The people were different in color, dress and speech. In every city we stopped in there were a hundred things that were new to me. In one of the places we stopped, the Daroga met a man who sold him another boy, much older then myself, by the name of Ajay. This boy was highly skilled at martial arts and in particular the use of the Punjab lasso. The man led us into a dusty arena, where two men were armed with swords. I watched, terrified, as Ajay was thrust in the arena with nothing but a coiled up rope. The giant swordsmen advanced upon him but Ajay was too quick and he soon had used the lasso to snap the necks of both men. He left the arena without a scratch on him.

Once Ajay joined us in our journey to Persia, he and I became fast friends. He laughed at my card tricks and ventriloquist act and he taught me to use the Punjab lasso. At first I was worried that he would ask me to remove my mask, but he never did. We wandered together through the marketplaces and he began to call me his "little brother". For the first time in my life, I was happy. I had friends and I would soon be performing before the Persian king. But once again, my happiness what cut short. Ajay became ill with some sort of fever and had to be left behind in a small town. I cried and cried for him, but the daroga assured me that he would send for him when he had time to get better and we would be together again in Persia. I never saw him again.

After days of travelling though hot, dusty lands, we arrived at the palace of the Sultan and the Daroga led me inside. It was the grandest place I'd ever seen and I stared in disbelief at everything my gaze touched. The Daroga took me to his apartment, which was even nicer than the house in France, and told me that the next day I could do my magic show for the Sultana. I was very nervous and didn't sleep a wink all night.

When the morning came, the Daroga brought me to the Sultana's room. Her bodyguard came out and the Daroga introduced us and told me that he would leave me with him. The guard scowled at me and pushed me through the door. We approached the Sultana, who was, at most, three or four years my senior, and the guard went down on his knees and motioned for me to do the same. The guard told the Sultana who I was and why I was there and she eyed me suspiciously. I showed her a few of my tricks that I had learned, but she wasn't watching and I could tell that she was preoccupied with my mask. After a short time, she did just what I had been dreading she would. She demanded that I remove the mask. I refused, and the guard hit me for my disobedience and despite my pleas he torn the mask from my face. The Sultana screamed when she saw me and ordered her guard to take me to the torture room. I was soon to learn that the little Sultana was not impressed with card tricks, ventriloquism, and other kinds of circus magic. There was only one thing that brought joy to her little heart, the sight of a human being in pain.

The guard tied my hands, dropped me into a dark stone container, and put on the heavy lid. Once inside, I easily slipped my hands from the bonds as I'd seen the circus escape artists do. I reached my arms up as high as I could to see if I could push up the lid, but it was too high to touch. I jumped with all my strength and still couldn't feel it. The walls were just far enough apart that a grown man could touch the tips of his fingers to both sides. I began to ponder how on earth I would escape before suffocating when a river of foul smelling water began to pour down on me. In moments it was up to my waist and I was sure that I would be drowned. In less than a minute, I could no longer feel the floor I reached up and found the cold, stone lid. I tried to push at it, but only pushed myself beneath the water. I dove and pushed myself off the bottom with all the strength in my legs. As I came to the lid I pushed upward with my arms and it seemed that the lid budged slightly. There were now only inches of air left in the container. I went to a corner and, placing each of my feet upon a wall I attempted to lift the lid with my hands. I had run out of air and out of time and my shoes kept slipping on the wall. I flipped myself over and pushed at the lid with my feet, while I held onto the walls with my hands. The lid moved slowly and I found the opening with my head and shoulders. After a few choking and terrified breaths, I squeezed my way through the opening and dropped ungracefully onto the floor. When I had regained consciousness, the guard was dragging me through the halls of the palace. When he saw that I'd awakened he informed me that my escape act had been a hit with the sultana and that in her graciousness, she was allowing me to live. I would spend the night in the dungeon and the next morning, I was to return and she would try to kill me again.

This went on for nearly a week. I was lucky to survive each time but I knew that I wouldn't live for long in this manner. On the sixth day of my stay at the Sultan's palace, I was led, exhausted and terrified, to the sultana, who explained to me with great joy, as she had taken to doing each day, how she meant to end my life this time. Each day I had shuddered and wept and begged as she described the torture, but this time I had a plan. I tried desperately to control my shaking limbs and to make my voice sound nonchalant.

'I'm not afraid. I always escape from your traps,' I boasted to her, 'They are so easy. I could think of much better tortures than those.' She stared at me wide-eyed and asked me what sort of tortures I would use. I spent the morning discussing the most painful ways to kill someone I could imagine and the Sultana clapped her hands and laughed wickedly at each one. I had hoped that the Sultana would stop trying to think of ways to kill me if she felt that she could get something out of me. It seemed to have worked; the next two days she didn't send for me. But on the third day I was summoned to the torture room once more.

I was relieved to find that I was not to be the victim this time. She only wanted to show me how she had the new tortures designed just as I said. She sat me beside her and began to demonstrate them to me with live victims. Now it was one thing to sit and discuss such tortures hypothetically, but I had to sit there, trying to cover my horror, and watch the whole thing happen. When I was finally returned to the dungeon, I vomited every speck of the meager meal that I'd been given."

"Oh Erik!" Suzette exclaimed, "How awful!" He turned suddenly as she interrupted, as if he'd forgotten that she was there. Suddenly, he fell to weeping and cried out, "Suzette! Do you forgive me?"

"You didn't have a choice," she insisted in disbelief.

"I didn't have to help her! So many people died on my account."

"She would have killed you instead!" she cried.

"Yes. But that isn't all. I stayed there for over a month, devising new tortures for her. When she told me that I was her friend, I believed her. I became completely occupied with building newer and crueler machines for our pleasure. I even designed a labyrinth of mirrors and trapdoors, which was inspired by the house of illusions that I had seen at the circus and a picture of a boy being attacked by a monster in a maze that I'd seen in one of the Daroga's books. I was angry, you see. I hated the world for the suffering that I'd endured. My parents who hated me and abandoned me, the carnival crowds who jeered at me and hurt me, and the circus people who betrayed me and beat me. When I helped the sultana to kill, I was taking my revenge."

"No! I can't believe that." Suzette shouted, and turned away. Erik took her arms and whispered to her,

"You have to believe me, Suzette. I was angry. When people live their whole lives in fear and pain, they become angry. They do things that they know are evil. They do things that hurt and frighten others, because pain and fear is all they've ever known. They don't see the beauty in life; they don't respect life and how precious it is. They don't even see the wonder of their own lives and… and they don't always ask to be forgiven." He stopped here and took her small hands in his, "You don't have to forgive them, Suzette. Most people don't. But I am asking you to understand this, and to forgive me even so, for betraying my own piece of humanity." She pulled her arms down to her sides and looked him calmly and lovingly in the face. She said, "I forgive you, Erik. And I love you."

"Thank you, Suzette," he whispered. The sun was setting and it's lovely, life-giving rays touched every corner of the room. It chased away the shadows. It kissed and warmed their faces. It even illuminated the particles of dust into pretty, floating stars. They stared at it for a long time, loving its kind beauty.

Erik touched Suzette's shoulder and asked, "Would you like to hear the end of the story? It is much happier." She nodded earnestly.

"Tell me how you escaped from Persia and how you came to France. Tell me about the opera house and how you came to fall in love with the Viscountess." He laughed and continued his narration.

"As I said before, I had become quite a little animal in the Persian palace. The Sultana was my only companion and we were both heartless creatures and unsuited for friendship. Eventually the inevitable occurred; we had a fight. The Sultana ordered the guard to take me away and sentenced me to be executed the next morning. The guard dragged me back to the dungeon where he threw me down and chained my wrists.

'I apologize for not having any ingenious machines or trapdoors for you,' he hissed as he chose his weapon from the many hanging on the wall, 'But I promise you, I can make you scream just as loud without them.' He made good on his promise and by the time he had finished there was no need to chain me. I wouldn't even be able to walk to the gallows the next day.

Some time during the night, I awoke from a light sleep to find the Persian Daroga standing over me. 'Leave me!' I screamed, 'I hate you!' But he motioned for me to be quiet and he lifted me. The pain was unendurable, and I passed out.

I awoke to him softly calling my name. I opened my eyes and he said in a witty voice, 'You're going to Paris first class, Erik! There is food and water here for you, a warm blanket, and here is your mask. I brought you here and I'm going to make certain you get back to Europe. My, won't Darius be surprised when he opens this box!' I was too dazed to reply or to even understand what was happening. So I just curled up with the blanket and the Daroga shut me inside the box.

If Darius was surprised when he opened the box, he didn't show it. He read his master's instructions, dressed me, and gave me breakfast without a word. After breakfast he packed me a bag of things that I would need. We got into a carriage and he brought me to a place in the city where there was a little courtyard among the enormous buildings. In a corner of the courtyard, half hidden by trees, stood a monument of some sorts, constructed of large stones. Darius pulled aside a large stone in the back to reveal a passageway. Darius was still silent, but I understood that I was to hide in this dark place until other plans were made.

I ventured slowly into the dark, cold passageway, with only a lantern to guide me. I walked and walked. At first I had thought that the place was a cave, but I soon realized that the walls were too smooth and the steps that I tripped over every now and then were man-made. I was in the cellar of some kind of building. As I wandered further and further into the dark, lonely place I began to wonder if there was an end to this passageway. Perhaps it only wound around and around and then came back out into the light somewhere else, or maybe it never came out at all.

Suddenly I came upon a space whose size I couldn't tell from the dim light. I saw that there was a small drop ahead of me where the floor was lower, and black as ink. I sat down on the edge and pushed myself off. Instead of landing firmly on the black, shiny floor, I fell through it into utter darkness. I tried to scream but water filled my throat. I thrashed about in horror, for I had no idea what had happened. Suddenly I felt cool air on my head and I realized that I had found the surface. As you have guessed, I had discovered the lake beneath the opera house. The lantern was lost now, although Darius had tied the bag securely to my arm and I still had it. I was treading water in endless blackness to which I had no proof that there was an end. I began to swim, attempting to keep in a straight line. It seemed like ages. I began to wonder if I should not change my direction, as I had been swimming for many minutes and had found nothing, but resisted, telling myself that if I kept changing my course, I would be lost. Somewhere, there had to be a shore. I swam and swam, growing more and more tired every minute, but just as I thought that I would exhaust myself and drown, I cracked my head on something. I reached out and felt that it was a rather slimy wooden post, so large that I could just get my arms around it. I followed it upwards and found that it supported a wooden platform. I dragged myself from the black water and lay panting on the platform and considering what to do next. I needed shelter, heat, and light or else I would perish, but I had no clue where I was and I was swallowed by darkness.

Suddenly, from far away, there came a sound like something large and hollow being struck. It came again and again at equal intervals. I got to my feet and groped in the darkness as I searched for the source of the sound. I crawled upward through endless passageways. I had no idea what it was but I knew I had to find it. I followed twists and turns as I came closer and closer to the rhythmic sound, like a heart beating. As the sound drew nearer, it was accompanied by other sounds that I couldn't identify. They were like voices, crying and laughing. The sounds became one sound that was like a living thing. It was telling a story and other things were laughing and answering it back.

Now the sound was all around me and above me and below me. My grasping hands found a small door and I opened it just a crack. The light was blinding. When I could pry open my eyes, I saw below me many human beings, dancing and singing and making the healing sound that I now realized was music. I stayed there behind the door and thought of how beautiful it was and how lovely my heart felt as I listened to it. In all my life, I had never seen people making something beautiful for the pleasure of others. It was like a gift of love. I sat there for hours and listened, and as I listened I made my plan. I would live there, in that place of beauty. I would make a home for myself down beyond the black lake, where no one would find me. I would stay there forever and learn to make music and other beautiful things and no one would ever hurt me again.

By the time the Daroga had returned to Paris and found me in the cellars of the opera house, I had begun constructing my house by the lake, I had taught myself to read in German and was working on learning French, I had swiped a violin to learn to play, and I had discovered how very much I loved to sing. He returned many times to spy on me and tried to coax me back to the surface but I had no use for human love, except when it was expressed in the beauty of the arts. So I remained there for over a decade, building myself a dark world to exist in, and healing my tortured soul with art, books, and music, the only beauty I could see in mankind.

But as time went on, I grew into a man, and yearned to live my life as one. I began to leave the house on the lake more often to watch the people above me. I was not as cautious of being caught, and I began allowing people to see me. Perhaps I even wanted them to. Maybe I thought that if they saw me, they would try to find me and rescue me from my prison, but something else happened. They began to call me a ghost. This new position gave me great opportunities. I had great fun, playing jokes on the choristers and stagehands. I was able frighten the managers into giving me money, leaving me a box to watch the operas from, and doing many other things which the 'opera ghost' commanded. I enjoyed my new ability to control people and interact with them on my own terms but I was still lonely.

And then I saw Christine. Who knows how long she'd been there? She might very well have been there for years and I hadn't noticed. But one afternoon, while I was watching a final rehearsal from my box, I saw Christine Daae, and wanted her for my own. She was as lovely as I was hideous, as gentle as I was violent, and as kind as I was hateful and from the moment I first saw her, I believed that she could love me." Erik laid back and wept silently.

"What happened?" she asked, enthralled. Erik seemed surprised.

"You know what happened after that."

"I want you to say it. I want you to tell me how she left you." He shook his head sadly and turned away.

"If you were really such a hateful creature, as you say you were, why did you allow her to leave?"

"I didn't really love her, not at first. I thought I did, but how could I? What did I know of true love? I wanted to keep her for my own enjoyment. I yearned for her company with selfish, monstrous desire. I was consumed by hatred and jealousy for her young Viscount, whom I knew she was in love with. I would have left him to die in the torture chamber without any question, had she not stopped me. Yes, I cherished her and I worshiped her, but I couldn't love her.

But then it happened, and it happened all at once. You see, she gave me her promise that she would marry me. She didn't want to, for even as she pitied me in my agony, she couldn't forgive me my dark soul. I knew this but it had ceased to matter. I wanted her for my wife, dead or alive. But she looked at me in my horribleness, she kissed me, and she promised me that she would be my living wife."

" And then you loved her?" Suzette concluded.

"Yes," he answered, " And it came to me in such a sudden burst of pain, that I thought I would die. I sorrowfully told her that she was to go and marry the young Viscount, whom I knew she was in love with, and not to be unhappy ever again. And that is how it happened. That is how a monster won a soul." Suzette was silent as she embraced him. He was not crying now and his breath was normal and peaceful, as if he might fall asleep any moment. But he suddenly said, "And here she is now." And Suzette went to answer the door and let the Viscountess in.


	27. The Beginning

**Chapter Twenty-six**

**The Beginning**

Erik rose to greet her as she entered with Suzette.

"You came to say good-bye," he exclaimed, as she went to embrace him, "I didn't think that you would." Christine did not reply but they held each other for a long time and Suzette saw that she was crying. She touched his shoulder and said, "Lay back down now, before you kill yourself." Suzette propped up his pillows and he leaned against them.

"Are you still afraid of me, Christine?" he asked. She reached up slowly and removed his mask.

"I'm not afraid, Erik," she said and she kissed him.

"I'm sorry that I frightened you. I'm sorry that I deceived you. Can you forgive me?"

"We have both deceived one another." Erik was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Erik, I made you promises that I had no intention of keeping. I was in the wrong when I made them and I have been shamed by them ever since. If I had not made them you would not have suffered so much at my hands."

"Nor would I ever have known love, for it was at your hands that I was first capable of such an emotion."

"Perhaps, we awakened something dead in each other. At any rate I feel as if I own you a dept that I will never be able to repay."

"You can do something for me, Christine. Just as you first made my heart to love, my dear Suzette gave me a life worth living and now it is time for her life to begin. Please take her with you. Please give her everything that she needs." Christine nodded.

"I will do my very best," she promised.

"I won't go," Suzette declared.

"Is that so?" said Erik. He scooped up her hand and examined it wearily.

"I think you will be sleeping soon, Erik," said Christine, "Perhaps I had better go now."

"Please, not just yet. I want to show you what I've been working on all day. It's a new opera. I've just finished it today and I think you'll prefer it to the last one I wrote."

"Suzette," he asked, still clasping her hand, "Will you go and get it, and your violin as well." Suzette left the room and a few moments later returned with the violin and the manuscript. Erik opened it and after finding the page he wanted, handed it to Christine.

"Will you sing it for me, Christine? You know how much I love it when you sing for me. After all, music is just a gift of love and when you sing it heals all my sadness."

"How could I refuse, then?" she responded and she held the score up so that both she and Suzette could see.

Suzette played a moving introduction on the violin and Christine began to sing with all her heart. The song was beautiful, filled with hope, love, and compassion. Christine understood what he meant about a gift of love. When the song had finished, Christine closed the score and knelt with it beside him.

"Oh Erik, its beautiful."

"I'm quite pleased that you think so, because it's yours now. I'm giving it to you and to Suzette. It is my gift of love, to the both of you." Christine didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," she whispered finally.

Suzette climbed up on the bed beside him and kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Erik," she said.

"I love you, Suzette," he answered and he stroked her hair gently until long after she'd fallen asleep at his feet. Christine covered her with a blanket and then knelt beside the bed once more.

"I'm so tired," said Erik.

"Then go to sleep. I'll stay here with you until you do."

"I'd like that," he responded and he lay back and closed his eyes.

"Christine?" he asked after a while.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Erik's eyes shot open and he turned to her.

"You? You do?" There was nothing on earth he could have expected less.

"Yes, my friend and my teacher, I love you very much indeed. I always have, and I always will. Now go to sleep." And he did.

When Suzette awoke the next day, Christine was still there, and the angels had come for Erik during the night. The Viscount and Viscountess did what they could to console the girl and that first night, Christine made her a present of a little gold ring that Erik had once given to her as a token of his love and she had always kept with her. The next month, Christine took her to Italy and Suzette's life began again. Suzette took the ring and wore it always on a chain about her neck. When she was sad she held it tightly in her hand and thought of how much Erik had loved her.

Years later, she would tell his story to her own family and they were always shocked and awed at how an innocent child and a beautiful primadonna could ever love a man with a face so hideously deformed and a life so devoid of love. Suzette knew that they were missing the real point and that they would probably never understand the real miracle that occurred in Erik's soul. After all, innocent children and beautiful ladies love people all the time for they are surrounded with love from their first moments of life. Erik was denied even the love of his own mother. Who could have imagined that he would be capable of true love? But Christine Daae, gentle little songbird that she was, had never doubted him for a moment.


	28. note:

Dear Readers,

This next chapter is supposed to be the 6th chapter. Unfortunately, I can't figure out how to insert a chapter between two more chapters. Does anyone out there know? I am slowing updating each chapter with corrections so I guess I'll insert it when I get there.

Respectfully,

Allegratree


	29. Renard and the Unreasonable Ghost

The house was one of the oldest and loveliest on the road. That much of the façade which was not hidden in the shadow of several large trees, was entwined in lush ivy. There was a large veranda on the front of the house where the original family had spent many hot summer evenings in the lovely shade, watching the many shades of twilight peaking through the branches and reflecting on the windowpanes. The grounds were extensive and the garden was often filled with the gleeful shouts of the children of the house as they ran about and played at having many merry little adventures. Indeed it had been a lovely place, but the last of those children had come and gone and had children of their own, and the grand old house had stood empty for years and years. During that time the gardens began to grow wild and the dark residence, having fallen into sleepy silence, scarcely crossed the minds of the villagers.

It was the children of the village who first noticed the ghost. Often, boys would climb through the protective shrubs of the garden hoping to sneak any apples that might have grown on the trees in the orchard. It was on such an occasion that the first sighting took place. Two boys, by the names of Jerome and Armand were exploring the mysterious, over-grown garden when suddenly Armand cried out,

"Jerome, Look!" Jerome looked at Armand, whose eyes had bugged out and whose small finger was pointing to a window, high in the deserted house, which appeared to be lit by a gas lamp.

"But no one lives in that old house," said Jerome skeptically.

"Let's go, Jerome! It's getting dark!" The two boys headed quickly toward the hole in the shrubbery where they had entered the property, when suddenly, the calm of the descending evening was broken by an unearthly sound. Startled, the boys scrambled desperately to find the opening.

"Armand!" Jerome shrieked, shaking his friend and pointing. Armand turned and saw two eyes peering at him from the darkness, shining like two stars. Armand stood frozen with terror, until Jerome caught hold of him and drug him through the opening to the other side. Once they were on their feet, they bolted through the field, and to the other side of the road, where they hid in the woods. Panting with fear and fatigue, they peaked out from behind the trees at the ominous house. All was still and the light in the window was gone.

"Armand, we've seen a ghost!" said little Jerome and the other boy agreed. The next morning they went about the village, telling their story to the other children. At first, most of the others didn't believe them, but then they too began to see the lights in the windows and hear the strange sounds from the sleeping house. It didn't take long before each believed a ghost had possessed the house and they looked upon it with both fear and fascination.

The grownups in the village saw the same lights and heard the same sounds and came to a much more sensible conclusion. Someone had moved into the house. It became a great topic of discussion among all the neighbors and they began to ask one another if they had seen the new people in the house. Weeks passed by, and no one saw more then an occasional form at the window. Every time someone went to knock on the door, there was never any response. No one ever saw the inhabitants go or come. The people became puzzled and frustrated by their mysterious new neighbors and eventually, they went to the village inspector in hopes of getting some information. The inspector, a man by the name of Renard, knew nothing more then anyone else about the inhabitants of the house.

"Well go and find out who they are!" the villagers cried, "We want to know who is living among us!"

"It isn't the police's business if people wish to stay inside and not come out to appease their nosy neighbors!"

"There is something strange going on over there! Our children say the house is haunted. What if it is vagrants that have moved in?" At last Inspector Renard relented and promised to get to the bottom of it.

The next afternoon, after checking the public record for the correct name and address, the good inspector traveled to Paris by coach, in search of the last known owner of the house. The previous owner was very gracious and recounted for the inspector many fond tales about growing up in the village. When Renard asked the man why he had finally sold the house after keeping it for so many years he told him that he had been holding on to it for retirement purposes.

"My business is in the city now, but I shan't wish to stay in Paris forever," he said.

"Then why did you sell the house at all?" the inspector asked.

"I hadn't intended to, but just two months ago a man called Richard came to me and offered me nearly three time the house's worth if I would sell it to him."

"Three times?"

"Yes indeed."

"But why did he want the house so badly?"

"That was the strangest thing of all! He said he needed the house to break a curse!"

"A curse? What kind of curse?"

"He wouldn't give any details. I asked him why he didn't just buy another house, but he insisted that only my house would do. He seemed so desperate and haggard, and what can you do when a man offers you so much money for something you don't even need?"

"Indeed. I should have done the same thing. Tell me, do you know where I can reach this fellow."

"He is one of the managers of the Opera Populaire. I imagine you might find him there."

Richard was not at the Opera Populaire. In fact, the place was nearly deserted as the Lenten season had just started and the theater was closed. But, Renard was able to get Richard's home address from a janitor and went straight there in hopes that he might find out more about this rather eccentric sounding person. Renard met Firman Richard as he was just leaving his flat with his wife, but he was granted a moment to introduce himself and to ask a few hurried questions.

"I was wondering if you could tell me who is living in that house you purchased."

"I don't know anything about it," the gentleman replied curtly.

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur. I had been informed that you were the owner of that house."

"The opera ghost is the owner of the house. I merely bought it in his name. It is HIS house."  
"I'm sorry, monsieur? To whom does the house belong?"

"To the opera ghost, monsieur, and may it fall down around him. At least he's out of my hair, at any rate."

"Am I to understand, monsieur, that you purchased a house for three times its worth, in order to appease a ghost?"

"That is exactly correct, inspector, and believe me it is a small investment compared to the amount that spiteful specter cost me in just one opera season. Well, I don't know a thing about anyone else living there, but if I were you I wouldn't touch even the front gate with a fifty-foot pole!" Renard stared at the madman before him in disbelief. Richard glared back at him solemnly. There was not even a spark of humor in his eyes.

It was Renard who spoke at last, "Very good, monsieur. I'll remember that. Sorry to have troubled you." And he turned on his heel and headed back to his carriage.

As he rode back to the village, Renard realized that the only thing to be done was to visit the house himself and investigate.

Upon arriving at the front gate of the mysterious house in question, Inspector Renard got quite an uneasy feeling. He remembered Richard's warning and hesitated for a moment, but then he remembered his promise to the villagers and being a man of honor, he pushed open the gate and strode purposely up to the house. As he drew nearer to the porch he heard a curious sound. He ceased his walking and listened carefully. He was quite sure he heard someone singing. He crept up to the porch and beheld a small girl with golden curls, cradling a doll in her arms and singing to her in a gentle, bell-like tone.

Renard didn't know exactly what he had expected to find, but he found himself greatly surprised by this small creature, playing in broad daylight on the steps of a house that was supposedly haunted. Suddenly, a twig cracked under his foot and the child spun around and spotted him staring at her. She bounced to her feet, clutching the doll in her arms and stared at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"Good afternoon, Miss," Renard said quickly, embarrassed at having startled her in such a way, "Do you live here?" The girl looked as if she didn't know how to answer.

"Are your parents home?" Her eyes grew wider and she looked to the side indecisively before she slowly nodded.

"Well I should very much like to speak with them."

Suddenly, to his astonishment, the small girl darted to the end of the porch and disappeared into the dark green leaves. Renard stood in shock for a moment and just when he was about to follow her, he heard a loud click at his side and saw the front door swing open slightly. He stared at the door for a moment and then slowly opened it enough to peer inside. As much of the space as he could see seemed to be tastefully furnished, in order, and quite normal.

"Hello?" he called into the space and started abruptly when a man's voice called out from quite near, "Good afternoon, Monsieur! Do come in!"

"Oh, Thank you, Monsieur!" cried the inspector happily and he scooped off his hat and entered further into the room, closing the door behind him, "I am inspector Renard from the village. I had heard that someone had moved in down here and just stopped in to see how you were getting on…"

At this point the good inspector trailed off, for even as he heard a voice in the room say, "Thank you, monsieur, that was really quite thoughtful of you." He saw that there was no one there!

"Hello, monsieur? I'm afraid I can't find you!"

"No? I'm right here before you!" said the voice.

"Where?"

"Just here." Renard stepped cautiously in the direction of the voice, to a corner of the room that contained a small fireplace with a large mirror over the mantel.

"That's it, monsieur, come just a bit closer." And Renard did come closer, for he observed at that moment that the mirror was very curious and the glass seemed to be lit from within. He was face to face with his own reflection in the mirror when suddenly there appeared an apparition more ghastly then any he had ever imagined. It was the face of the devil in that glass, burning him with his eyes, and shrieking with cold laughter. Renard screamed and drew back, but then to his horror, a skeletal hand of death reached from beyond the mirror and fastened its dead fingers around his cravat. Renard pulled and clawed at the dead flesh of this monstrous hand until he had freed himself and bolted for the door. The door slammed shut of its own accord and Renard, in his terror, worked desperately at the locks and the knob, trying to get it open while deafening, maniacal laughter assaulted him from every direction. At last the door came open and he flew into the light and air so quickly that he didn't even notice the little girl hiding in the bushes beside the steps. He continued running until the villagers saw him and stopped him in the street.

"What did you find out about that house, inspector?" Renard was gasping and sputtering from fear and lack of breath, but at last he got out, "After all my investigations, I have come to the conclusion that there is no one living in that house at the present time."

"Don't be a fool, man! There are shapes and lights at the window as well as smoke in the chimney. Of course there is someone there!"

"I believe those to be apparitions cause by a specter or evil spirit of some kind." The perplexed villagers looked at one another and then back to Renard.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Just what I say. The house is haunted and if I were you, I wouldn't so much as touch the front gate with a fifty-foot pole!"

"But what shall we do?" the frustrated villagers exclaimed. The inspector shrugged his shoulders and said simply, "What can be done with a ghost? I certainly don't know! Now, if you will excuse me, I need a stiff drink!"

The befuddled villagers watched the inspector disappear into the nearest tavern as they stood silently in the street, digesting this information. At last, one by one, they dispersed, many of the crossing themselves, and went about their own business.


	30. Thanks

Dear Reader,

I hope you have enjoyed my story. If you would like to read more, I have also posted several chapters that I wrote and then deleted from the main story. These chapters all took place during the time in which Erik and Suzette lived in the village and were mainly intended to develop the relationship between the two. They also introduced some new characters and helped explain some of Erik's past. In enjoyed writing them but they truly didn't seem to help enhance the story and they seemed to go on strange tangents. However, if you would like to read then, I have posted them for you. My personal favorite is called "The Phantom and the Prince of Humbug," which was so much fun to write.

Whether or not you liked my story, I would really appreciate reviews. I particularly would like reviews that contain specific suggestions or questions about something that was not clear. Thank you again for reading "A Ghost Story".

Respectfully,

Allegratree


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